


The Long and Winding Road

by Janeway578



Category: Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 56,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeway578/pseuds/Janeway578
Summary: An unexpected letter turns Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham's lives upside downAU where Bill and Hillary did not meet at Yale.  He was drafted and and went to law school after the war.  They met in DC sometime later and had a long distance relationship - she in DC and him in Arkansas.





	1. Prologue

February 27, 1980

A daughter. Hillary Rodham looked down at the sleeping bundle nestled against her chest, still barely able to process the awesome idea that she was a Mom at last. Little Chelsea Victoria's entrance had been a surprise - three weeks early and breach - and she'd had precious little time to prepare mentally or physically for her new role, but she was already so in love with her she could hardly breathe. 

"My girl," she whispered, stroking her soft cheek with the backs of her fingers. "I love you so much." Chelsea pursed her tiny lips and snuggled deeper into her mother's embrace and Hillary smiled despite the all-consuming fatigue she felt. 

There was a soft tap at the door and a plump, grandmotherly hospital administrator entered with an ink roller and a small stack of papers. 

"Sorry to bother you Honey, I just need to get this little one's footprints and have you answer a few questions so we can complete the birth certificate, then I'll be out of your hair so you can get your rest." Hillary nodded and unswaddled Chelsea, who immediately began to wail as the cold air hit her. She handed the screaming baby over to the woman, who cradled and bounced her like an old pro.

"There we go Sweetie," she cooed. "I'll give you back to your Mama in just a second."

Hillary watched with sleepy eyes as the woman rolled the ink over the bottoms of Chelsea's feet and then pressed them gingerly to the paper - her baby's first official mark on the world, preserved forever in time - then she expertly wrapped her back up and placed her in her mother's waiting arms.

"Now, let me just get a little information from you and I'll be on my way." 

"Baby's name?"

"Chelsea Victoria Rodham."

"Beautiful. Ok, we'll fill out her vitals from the doctor's official record. Next, Mother's full name?"

"Hillary Diane Rodham."

"Thank you Hillary, and what's your date and place of birth?" 

"October 26, 1947, Chicago Illinois." She yawned despite her best efforts to be polite, she was wiped out.

"I know you're tired Honey, just a couple more questions. I need the father's information-"

Hillary held up her hand to stop her.

"Unknown. The father is Unknown."

The woman nodded and made the note.

"Alright Hillary, looks like we're done here! I'll get this typed up for the hospital birth certificate and then forward the info on to the registrar's office and you should be receiving the official record of birth in the mail in three to four weeks. Take care of yourself Honey, and congratulations!" She backed out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her, leaving mother and daughter alone again.

"It's just you and me now sweetheart," she kissed Chelsea's forehead and held her a little bit  
tighter. "I know we're going to have a wonderful life. You've already made me the happiest person in the world."

With her baby secure in her arms, the exhausted new mom slipped into a dreamless slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

June 2, 1998

Governor Bill Clinton of Arkansas looked forward to mail day. He counted it as a time when he got the opportunity to really get in touch with the issues that were affecting the lives of people in his state. Whether it be signing his name to a congratulatory letter in response to a birth announcement or sending a personal note to let someone know that he was fighting for them, he truly liked taking a more hands on approach to his constituents. He silently thanked his assistant for being so organized as he rifled through the pile of letters on his desk, sorted in order of importance with the envelopes neatly stapled to the front. 

He signed and jotted, jotted and signed until he had made it to the last letter in the pile. He swore his heart stopped beating for a second before it started hammering so hard that he thought it might burst out of his chest. Hillary Rodham. God, how many times had he thought about her over the last 19 years? Seeing her name scrawled in the return address of the envelope had him trembling. 

He had tried over the years to find out how she was doing, even going so far as contacting some of her old friends, but he had hit a wall every time. Either she had truly dropped out of sight after their break-up or those close to her were fiercely protective of her. Whichever the case, she had been impossible to find, although at one point he had heard she might be living in California somewhere. After a while he realized she probably didn't want him to find her, and after how he had treated her, he couldn't blame her.

He could still picture her face on that sweltering day in July when all of his lies and indiscretions had come crashing down around him and she had told him to leave. Leave her bed, leave her house, leave her life. He had never seen someone so broken, and even after all these years it haunted him that he had been the one to break her, the only woman he had ever truly loved. That he had even had the capacity to do it was far removed from the man he had become. 

Now, staring at the letter in front of him, he didn't know if he could bring himself to read it. He still cared, and that scared him. But he owed her at least that much, and so he began...

 

"Dear Bill,

I know it's been a long time since we've spoken. I'd like to rectify that. I hear you're speaking at the Stanford commencement and I can be in the area. Care to come in a day early and meet me for lunch? Menlo Grill at noon, the 13th? You can call my assistant to set it up. 628-472-1374.

I hope you can make it,

Hillary"

 

She wanted to see him. Did he want to see her? What would it accomplish after so long except to open wounds that had long healed? No doubt they were both different people now, who had lived separate lives, but he had never been able to get her completely out of his heart. Even if she just wanted to meet him to tell him how much she still despised him, he could give her that. Finally put the whole thing to bed once and for all. So he called the number and set the date. Less than two weeks and he'd be sitting across from Hillary Rodham, the one that got away.


	3. Chapter 3

June 13, 1998

She sat alone at a table in the corner, nervously twisting her napkin in her lap. This had been a mistake. 

When she had found her mother's old diary months earlier, she had thought it would contain the silly ramblings of a teenaged girl, instead she had found a devastating tale, one that had changed her life forever the moment she read it. It was a story of love, betrayal, heartbreak and in the midst of that, a new life - a baby girl. Tucked between the faded pages was an old photo - her mother, young and exuberant, beautiful, and a man, with features so much like hers, tall and handsome and clearly in love. On the back, "B.C. 1978" written in her mother's handwriting. 

The man's first name was Bill, that she knew from the diary, and he was her father. She had been told as a young girl that he had died before she was born, the victim of an auto accident. A few times over the years she had asked about him, had he been a good man, did she look like him, would he be proud of her, and each time the raw pain that had flashed in her mom's eyes would make her sad, until finally she had stopped asking questions and accepted that there were some things she would never have answers to. Then, in her mother's own words - he had been alive and well at the time of her birth, possibly even still - like a punch to the gut. 

Try as she might though, she couldn't be angry with her. The diary had gone into great detail about what her mother had suffered, and part of Chelsea could understand the decision she had made to keep the truth hidden from her daughter. But she hadn't been able to get that picture, or Bill, out of her head. 

She had continued to agonize over what to do with the new information she had found, when fate had dropped an opportunity right in her lap. She had been accepted to Stanford University that spring and with her monthly student newsletter, there it was. An article about the upcoming graduation, and that year's commencement speaker, Governor Bill Clinton of Arkansas, Stanford Law Alumnus, 1976. Next to the article was a picture. He was older, his hair was shorter and grayer, but it was him, the man from the picture hidden in her mother's diary.  


B.C. Bill Clinton. Her father.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to write to him in her mother's name. She had just known she had to see him and that maybe, just maybe he would want to see Hillary Rodham, who even in her mother's words, he had professed to love at one point in time. So she had written the short note and given him her best friend Rachel's phone number with a promise she would portray Hillary's "assistant" if Bill Clinton called, and waited. 4 days later Rachel called her with the news...Bill had accepted the invitation and would be at the restaurant at noon on the 13th.

And there she sat at 11:56, part of her hoping against hope that he'd show up, the other, more rational part praying he wouldn't.  


The tinkling of the bell against the door signaled entry and in he walked, obviously looking around for someone, namely her mother. Upon not seeing her, he chose a table in the opposite corner and sat against the wall facing her. He stared out the window, face tight, clearly apprehensive, and she got her first good look at him. Tall and slender, hair sprinkled with gray, eyes crinkling in the corners as he searched the passing patrons for a familiar face. His eyes were light, she could tell. Nose and mouth identical to hers. 

Tears welled up in Chelsea's eyes. Her Daddy, sitting just a few feet from her and she was almost paralyzed with fear. One of the most important moments of her life was about to unfold, if only she could get up from the table and put one foot in front of the other. 

She could do this. She was Hillary Rodham's daughter and she never let fear conquer her. She raised up out of her seat, squared her shoulders and took the first step...

Tbc


	4. Chapter 4

He looked up as she approached him, giving her a warm smile. She could tell he was used to interacting with people, charming them, and she was no different. 

"Hello young lady," he said. 

"Mr. Clinton?" Her voice sounded weak and childlike, even to her own ears. Shaky. He nodded.

"My name is Chelsea. Chelsea Rodham." 

He blanched. Physically, like something had sucked all the air out of the room, and stared at her with mouth slightly agape. She could see him swallowing, hands gripping the table for a brief moment before he got himself in check.

"I think you'd better sit down," he motioned to the seat across from him and she took it.

He was scrutinizing her, but she let him take his time, let the pieces come together in his mind until she saw the moment when recognition dawned.

"You're...?"

"Your daughter. I think so, yes." Direct. No-nonsense. "I was born on February 27, 1980 and I know you and my mother were together before that. I look like you."

She could see the tears in the corners of his eyes and that almost broke her, but she had to push through, get everything on the table.

"I wrote you the letter. I'm so sorry I lied, but I didn't know how else to see you and I knew I needed to talk to you in person. My mom doesn't know I'm here. Oh god, she doesn't even know that I know about you. She's going to be so mad, I'm so sorry...". She was blubbering and he reached over and covered her hand on the table.

"Honey, slow down. It's ok, we'll figure this out. I've got to admit I've been a little bit blindsided so you're going to have to bear with me, but let me start by saying that I'm so incredibly honored to meet you, Chelsea Rodham." He squeezed her hand and the dam broke, hot tears dripping from her eyes. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Is there somewhere we can go so we can talk?" He must have seen she needed to get out of the busy restaurant.

She swiped at her cheeks. "There's a park across the street, it's pretty private."

"Ok Chelsea, let's get out of here, huh?" A nod.

They exited the restaurant and she led the way across the street to a shady bench in the park. Now that she had met him and told him who she was, she felt shy and awkward, tongue-tied. Thankfully he seemed to sense that and he took the lead, gently drawing her out with a series of easy questions aimed at getting to know her better. She was sure the heavy stuff would come, but she was grateful at the moment to leave it alone.

"I've always loved this area, you know I went to law school right down the road," he said, obviously trying to impart some personal information and hopefully set her at ease.

"I just got accepted to Stanford," she replied. "I start in the fall."

He smiled brightly, he almost seemed proud.

"Congratulations, it's a great school. What made you choose it?" 

She smiled, so much like his. "I grew up in Menlo Park, it was an easy choice. And Mom is overjoyed that I'll be so close to home." She chuckled, "She was already joking about how she could move her practice to any town in the country, that I wasn't getting away from her that easy."

She realized maybe she had said too much. Was it ok to talk about her mother? It was all so confusing, but if he minded he didn't let on.

He took her hand again, looking directly in her eyes as he spoke softly. "There's so much I want to know about you, about your life. I know this is overwhelming, it is for me too, let's just take it slow, ok? I don't want you to feel any pressure. I will be here in any way you want. If you want a friend, that's fine. If you want a father, I would be overjoyed to be that but it's alright if you're not ready yet. I-"

She interrupted him. "I've dreamt of what it would be like to have a father my whole life. Now you're here and I'm afraid," she looked out across the expanse of the park.

"Afraid of what, honey?"

"I don't want to hurt my mom. I read her old diary, that's how I found out about you. I don't want her to hate me for going behind her back. I should have talked to her first and now I've made a mess of things."  


She could see him swallow at the mention of her mother, but he pushed on.

"Well, it has been almost 20 years since I knew your mom but I remember what an understanding person she was. I can't believe that anything you could do would change her love for you. But Chelsea, you have to tell her what's going on, it's only fair. If you want me to be a part of your life, I know I also need to have a conversation with her, which I have my own issues with, but it's important we're all honest with each other, don't you think?" She knew he was right but the thought of hurting her mother in any way was just unconscionable to her.

"I'll tell you what. Did you drive yourself here?" She shook her head. "Ok, why don't you let me take you home and you and your mother can talk. I will leave you with the phone number to my hotel room and you can get in touch with me there any time. I'll make time in my schedule to see you again before I go back to Arkansas and we can figure out where to go from there. How does that sound?"

She took a breath and nodded, glad that he was providing her with some direction given how overwhelmed she was at present. 

He motioned for the security officer that had been standing at the edge of the park and asked him to have the car brought around, then they scrambled into the back of the black sedan. In five minutes they were pulling up the long driveway that led to her house. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that her mom would not be home, but no such luck - there was her car, right outside the garage. 

"You can leave me here," she said, her trepidation building.

Bill took her hand again. "You going to be ok?" 

"Yeah, I'll be ok." She didn't even sound confident to herself.

"You'll call me later?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Would it be too forward to ask for a hug?" He opened his arms and she went willingly. She felt him kiss the top of her curly hair. "I just want you to know, whatever happens, finding out about you and meeting you has been one of the best things to happen to me. Thank you." His voice broke and she felt a fresh stream of tears leak into his shirt. "Me too," she said.

She got out of the car and walked the rest of the way up the drive and turned and waved as his car pulled away. Then she dried her tears and prepared for the hardest conversation of her life. Gathering up the courage to meet Bill had been hard, yes, but it was nothing compared to now telling her mother what she had done. 

As if on cue, Hillary appeared on the porch, a worried look on her face.

"Chels, who was that that dropped you off?" 

"Mama, we need to talk," she was already breaking down and they weren't even in the house yet. This was going to be messy.

"Baby what is it?" She could tell her mother was trying to keep her panic at bay, so she took her hand. 

"I did something and I don't want you to be angry with me. I'm so sorry Mom," she was sobbing now and her mom was clearly getting more worried by the second. 

Her mother pulled her into a fierce hug on the porch and whispered into her hair, "Whatever it is Chelsea, we'll fix it. Just tell me what's going on ok?"

They walked, Hillary's arm around her shoulders, into the house and shut the door. It was the moment of truth...


	5. Chapter 5

Hillary's heart was racing as the door closed behind them. She didn't think she'd ever seen Chelsea so shaken, and as a mother, the number of doom and gloom scenarios that were already playing out in her head were almost drowning out rational thought. 

"Breathe Hillary," she willed herself. She took an audible breath and exhaled through her mouth to steady herself.

Chelsea, who by now had done the same thing (so much alike they were), was standing at the bottom of the staircase just inside the door, each one waiting for the other to speak. 

"Can we talk upstairs? There's something you need to see."

"Of course, Sweetheart." She couldn't help but feel that with each of those 12 steps she was walking toward the eventual destruction of something, she just didn't know what it was.

She followed her daughter into her room and sat with her hip on the bed and one foot on the floor, trying to remain as casual as possible while Chelsea rummaged through the bottom drawer of her desk. Hillary could see the visible straightening of her spine, the actual moment she must have placed her hands on what she was seeking. She stood up, back to her, and took a breath, then joined her on the bed. 

Chelsea handed her the leather-bound journal without a word. Embossed with 'HDR' on the front cover, she recognized it immediately. Hillary choked on a sob and closed her eyes. Chelsea knew. She knew almost everything. Next, the photo, one she hadn't been able to look at in 19 years. Tears, unbidden, poured down Hillary's cheeks. All-consuming sobs racked her petite frame and shame, white hot and raw, almost swallowed her. How she was going to explain this to her daughter she didn't know, but she was desperate to try. Desperate to make her understand.

"Chels, I-" she covered her eyes with her hand. "Oh God Baby I'm so sorry," she cried. 

Chelsea took her in her arms, both of them weeping now. "I know Mama, I know," she bawled. "I'm sorry too. Please don't hate me!"

Hillary pulled away to look at her. "Honey, what are you talking about?" 

Chelsea wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled. "There's more," she murmured.

The last and final item, Stanford's student newsletter, placed right in front of her on the bed, picture of Bill smiling up at her and haunting her, still. Her muddled thoughts couldn't keep up with what her daughter was trying to say and she looked at her, confused. 

"I know that Bill Clinton is my father. When I saw that picture, I knew. I mean, I look just like him." 

Hillary swallowed. She didn't like where this was going. 

"I sent him a letter, pretending I was you and wanting to meet for lunch. He accepted. I met him Mom, and I told him who I am. He knows. That was him that dropped me off earlier." A strangled whisper.

The air rushed on out of her lungs in a whoosh, followed by a gasping breath. Finally, the consequences of her decision all those years ago had come full circle. Oh God, what an unholy mess her life had just become, and she had no one to blame but herself, certainly not the girl now starting at her wide-eyed and terrified.

"Sweetheart, I could never, EVER hate you," she began. "I'm the one who needs to beg for forgiveness. I can only say that I thought I was doing the right thing. I was trying to protect you from ever feeling like less than the bright, funny, sweet girl that you are. From the second I laid eyes on you 18 years ago, you owned my heart, and I couldn't bear to tell you the truth because the thought of you hurting was like a physical ache inside of me. But it was wrong and if it's causing you pain now, I regret it. Please say something," she pleaded. 

Chelsea was quiet a moment, gathering her thoughts and then, voice like a little girl she said, "It's ok Mama. I understand and I forgive you." Hillary held her daughter's hands in hers. "I read your words and I know why you did what you did. I love you and nothing will ever change that."

Hillary released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and gathered Chelsea in her embrace. "We're ok then? She asked tentatively. She felt the girl nod against her shoulder, "Yeah, we're ok." She stroked the soft curls. "I love you my girl," she whispered. "Love you too Mama."

She sat back against the headboard with her daughter in her arms, caressing her head in an attempt to soothe both of their frazzled nerves. Now that the initial storm was over, she felt drained and more than a little lost about what to do next. Namely about one Bill Clinton. She was usually a pretty pragmatic person, but in this instance she honestly had no idea where to start.

"I told him I'd call him after I talked to you," Chelsea spoke softly into her mother's shirt.

Hillary sighed. "Is that what you want to do Baby? Do you want to tell me about how your meeting went? I'm sure it was an overwhelming experience, it might help to talk about it with someone." Chelsea sat up and looked at her, timid.

"You'd be ok with that? Really?" Hillary could see the apprehension on the girl's face and it broke her heart.

"Of course I would, Chels. He is your father and if you want him in your life, I will support you. In any case, you are an 18 year old woman and you have every right to make these decisions for yourself. I can only hope that you'll let me in, let me help if you need it. I'm always, always here for you."

"He was nice," Chelsea said cautiously. "He had to be totally freaked out by the situation but he was more concerned about me. We didn't talk about anything too heavy, but he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. He said finding out about me was the best thing that's happened to him. I hope that's true." She put her head back on Hillary's chest seeking comfort and Hillary rubbed her back in a gentle, circular motion.

"How did you leave things when he dropped you off?" She asked.

"He said to call him at his hotel and that he wanted to see me before he went back to Arkansas so we could figure out where to go from here. Is that ok?"

"Only if it's what you want Honey."

"I think it is. I want to get to know him, will that make you uncomfortable?" She asked.

"Don't worry about me Chels, I'm a big girl. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not shaken up because that's not true. But the reality is that Bill Clinton is your dad, and if he's going to fill that role, I'm going to have to communicate with him at some point, despite my personal feelings. It's been a lot of years and we're more than likely different people than we were then. Certainly he deserves a chance to prove he can be a good father, and I owe it to him, but especially to you, to respect that. But I'll tell you this...if he hurts you in any way, he'll have to answer to me, and Mama Bear does NOT take kindly to anyone messing with her cub. So be warned, because the claws might come out." Chelsea laughed, a welcome sound after so much turmoil and she couldn't help but join her.

"Why don't you go give him a call and then we'll get some dinner ok?" Chelsea nodded and took a deep breath - Hillary could tell she was anxious. "It'll be fine Honey, he's waiting for your call. Let him know you're ok." 

"I told Rachel I'd go over there later," she said. "Can you drop me off after dinner?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be downstairs when you're ready. You mind if I take this?" She asked, picking up the journal. Chelsea shook her head. "Go get 'em tiger!" She left her daughter's room, resisting with everything in her the urge to stand outside the door and listen in on her conversation with Bill. 

Hillary knew what she needed to do. It was time to confront the man and have a conversation that was 19 years in the making.


	6. Chapter 6

His hotel suite seemed huge. And empty, much like he realized his life had been until today. Chelsea Rodham, his daughter. His head was still swimming thinking about everything that had happened to him in the short span of 24 hours. Yesterday at this time he was a single Governor whisking into town to give a speech, hoping to reconnect with an old flame. Now to find out he was the father of an 18 year old, it was overwhelming. And Hillary. His anger at her burned deep. How could she keep this from him all this time? Had she really hated him that much that she could raise their daughter for 18 years and never say a word? He never would have thought her capable of that level of vindictiveness but perhaps he'd been wrong about her all along. 

Chelsea had called an hour ago and filled him in on her and Hillary's conversation and he was grateful that the two of them had seemed to come to some level of understanding. He certainly hadn't wanted there to be any animosity between mother and daughter, despite his feelings for Hillary at present.

He stretched out on the couch in the living area with a goofy grin on his face. It was true, his life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated but he was overjoyed. He couldn't wait to get to know Chelsea better, but he also didn't want to push. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to being a father, but he knew for sure he didn't want to scare her away before he even had a chance to learn.

The ringing of the phone startled him out of his reverie and reached behind him to the side table to scramble with the receiver.

"Hello?" He sounded out of breath.

"Bill, its Hillary. Rodham. We need to talk." 

He cleared his throat and took a breath in an attempt to keep his temper in check."

"Hello Hillary. You're about 18 years late, I think." He couldn't help it, he wanted to hurt her.

She sighed on the other end of the phone.

"Jesus Christ William, can I come up or not? I'm in the lobby." Holy shit. He hadn't realized she'd want to speak in person. He wasn't prepared for this, but he would never tell her that.

"Fine, I'm in Suite 1152. Give me 5 minutes." He didn't give her a chance to respond before he hung up. He had to change out of his ratty old sweats before he saw her.

4 minutes later (didn't he say 5? Why did she always have to have the upper hand?) there was a knock on the door. He took a steadying breath and flung it open, and in marched Hillary Diane Rodham, already exasperated. He stepped out of the way to let her pass and they stood facing each other for the first time since 1979.

The first thing he noticed was that she was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. She was a blonde now, with a silky sophisticated bob that framed her face and accentuated her gorgeous cheekbones. Her face was made up, but not overly so. She wore black slacks and a simple white button down shirt, over which she had tied a red sweater around her shoulders to ward off the nighttime chill. Black flats on her feet, black purse slung over her shoulder. The years had definitely been kind to her, and he had to make a conscious effort to stop himself from staring, which only pissed him off more because he was so angry at her.

"Do come in," he said sarcastically. Hillary rolled her eyes.

"Can we cut the bullshit please Bill? You know why I'm here. We need to talk about Chelsea."

Bill clenched his fists at his sides. "Yes, LET'S talk about Chelsea. My daughter, whose existence I was not even aware of until today, and only because she found me on her own. Let's talk about that Hillary." The venom in his voice was a surprise even to him. He was more angry than he had realized.

She turned away from him and walked to the window, looking out at the skyline in what he knew was an attempt to compose herself. 

"What do you want me to say?" She said softly. He was having none of it. She didn't get to keep a secret like this and then act like the injured party. Fuck that.

"What I want, Hillary, is for you to tell me why the fuck you kept our daughter from me for the last 18 years. Why, in all these years you didn't feel it right or important for that girl to know she had a father. Were you so bitter and burned by our breakup that you thought it ok run away and leave me in the dark? That's what I want you to say. And if you can't do that, then you can just get the hell out of here because I don't have anything to say to you!" He was shouting now and he saw her dander go up, knew she was about to strike like a viper.

She turned from the window, eyes ablaze, and pulled something out of her purse. Then she stormed up to him, right up in his face and shoved it against his chest. 

"Go ahead, open it," she demanded.

"What the hell is this?"

"I SAID open it!" She screamed. "In fact, I've bookmarked a few passages for you, so go ahead!"

He walked over and sat on the sofa, flipping the journal open to the first earmarked page. He began to scan the lines.

"No, read it out loud," she said. She stood next to the couch with arms folded defensively.

_June 24, 1979  
"Bill was able to stay the whole weekend this time and it was wonderful. We ate and danced and spent the weekend making love and afterwards, he jokingly tried to convince me to move down to Arkansas with him and be by his side when he launched his campaign. I love him so much, I am actually considering it. Only seeing him every other weekend when he can get to Washington has been so hard on both of us, that I think the only way we'll survive as a couple is if we can spend more time together. I think I'm ready to give up life here in D.C. and make the move. I'm going to surprise him with the news next time he's in town."_

"Hillary what is the point of rehashing all this?" He asked in annoyance.

She laughed bitterly. "Oh darlin' we're just getting started! You said you wanted to know why I kept Chelsea a secret, its all in there. So read on my love, because you're in for a treat!"

He moved to the next page she had folded down and read aloud:

_June 29, 1979  
"I got a letter in the mail today. It had no return address on it and it was typed, but it had a Fayetteville postmark. Some unknown person took the effort to write to me and tell me that Bill has been lying to me for the the majority of our relationship. He's apparently been engaged for the last year to someone else. They were even kind enough to enclose a picture. Bill and Joanne, the tall beautiful blonde, locked in a tight embrace, her engagement ring visible for all to see. I don't know what to do. I tried to get ahold of him to ask him what was going on, but he's been out in the field according to Dick and hasn't bothered to call me back. I'm trying not to panic, hoping this is just some kind of sick joke, but I'm worried."_

"Hillary-"

"Go on," she said icily.

_July 6, 1979  
"I confronted Bill when he got to the apartment tonight. It's true. All of it. He insists their relationship is a sham, that he never intended to get engaged to her but unmarried men don't poll as well and she was a pretty face that might help his chances in the election. He even tried to convince me that if I'd agreed to marry him last year when he asked me, that this wouldn't have happened. But it's all just lies. I told him to leave, that I never wanted to see or hear from him again. I've never felt this kind of pain in my entire life. God, what am I going to do?"_

"I'm sorry Hillary," he murmured. His anger at her was dissipating with each line he read. Reliving her heartbreak in her own words was devastating.

"We're not done yet."

_August 1, 1979  
"I went to the doctor today because I haven't been feeling well for the last couple of weeks. I thought it was just stress over the breakup with Bill but it isn't. I'm pregnant. I'm still in shock and so scared. I know I have to tell Bill, but I don't know how to do it. I'm still so hurt and angry but he deserves to know he's going to be a father."_

_August 3, 1979  
"I've been trying to call Bill for 2 days to tell him about the baby but either he's not getting my messages or he is choosing not to call me back. I couldn't bring myself to call the house, knowing SHE might be there, so I've been calling headquarters. I spoke to Dick several times and told him it was urgent that I speak to Bill but I still haven't heard. I'm going to send him a letter and hope it gets to him._

_August 20, 1979  
"I got a letter from Dick Morris today, informing me that Bill needs to concentrate on the campaign and I should understand that the scandal an illegitimate pregnancy would cause for him would doom his chances of winning. That if I cared about him at all, I'd leave it alone. Oh, and he sent me a check, drawn on campaign funds, to cover any "expenses" the baby and I might have. Fuck him. I'd rather die than take that money. I'm being bought off, and I don't know how to get to Bill. I'm angry at him but I can't crush his dream of running for office and I won't subject myself and this baby to scrutiny for tabloid fodder. As soon as I can get things squared away here, I'm going home to Park Ridge for a while to sort some things out. It's not just my life anymore, I need to think about this little one. Despite the horrible circumstances, I can't wait to be a Mom. This baby is a blessing and he or she will be loved so much. I only hope I can do this alone. I wish I didn't have to."_

"Oh my God, that fucking bastard!" Bill screamed.

She collapsed in the chair across from him, gutted. Being transported back to the worst time of her life must have drained the fight out of her and Bill saw the weariness on her face.

"The rest, as they say, is history," she said sardonically.

"I was going to contact you after she was born, but I heard that by then you had gotten married to HER and had a baby of your own on the way. I couldn't break up your family, I knew how that felt. And I wouldn't have Chelsea growing up feeling like an afterthought. Shortly after her birth I packed us up and moved out here. It was easier to pretend you were dead and that you had gone to your grave loving her than to tell her the truth. I probably took the easy way out and for that I'm profoundly sorry, but I was trying to protect her the best way I knew how."

"Hillary, you've got to believe me, I had no idea. I hope you know that if I'd been told, things would have been different."

She sighed. "It is what it is Bill. There are things we both could have done differently. I don't see the sense in second guessing ourselves now. We have to find a way to make this work for Chelsea and for you, if that's what you want. If you have no interest in being a father to her, and were just humoring her, you need to let me know now so I can let her down easy. I will not have her get her hopes up and be heartbroken. Surely you can understand that."

He nodded vigorously. "I love her already," he admitted. "Is that possible?" 

Hillary softened. "Absolutely. She's an easy kid to love. She's so good Bill, you have no idea. I'd like to take some credit for it but it's just who she is. She's amazing." Hillary was wistful.

"So where do we go from here?" He asked anxiously. Chelsea was open to seeing him before he left but they hadn't firmed up any plans. He really wanted to see her.

"When do you leave?" Asked Hillary.

"I have an evening flight but I can reschedule to Monday morning."

Hillary nodded. "Come to our house tomorrow night for dinner, if you can make it. I'll cook and then you two can have some time for yourselves. How does 5:30 sound?"

"I'll be there." He chuckled and Hillary gave him a look.

"Hillary Rodham cooking. The girl I remember couldn't boil water." He was ribbing her now, hoping she'd take it in the lighthearted manner in which it was intended, especially after the discussion they had just had.

He saw her try to hide her smile but failed. "You'd be surprised what I can do, William," she said, arching an elegant eyebrow and pushing herself up out of her seat to leave.

"I've got to get back. Chelsea needs a ride home from a friend's. Tomorrow at 5:30?"

He walked her to the door. "Wouldn't miss it," he said with a smile.

"You named her Chelsea," he said softly, stopping her in her tracks.

"What?"

"The name we talked about when I took you to England. After everything I did to you, you named her Chelsea." Frankly, he was gaining a newfound respect for her, despite how angry he had been just an hour before.

"She could never have been anything else." She gave him a genuine smile.

"See you tomorrow Hillary."

"Goodnight Bill," she said.

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

Tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

Hillary was nervous. It was ridiculous, he was coming to see Chelsea but still the feeling persisted. It could have been because she hadn't had a man to dinner in years. It could have also been that the particular man who was coming to dinner was a man she had shared a passionate relationship with, hadn't seen in almost 20 years and was coming to visit the daughter she gave birth to in secret that he had just found out about. She chuckled to herself as she took the lamb out of the oven and let it rest on the cutting board. The situation, to an outside observer, would seem ludicrous. But it was their reality and she was going to try hard to make things easy for her daughter and for Bill. 

Admittedly, she had taken greater care with her appearance than normal as well. She didn't dress up - wearing gingham Capri pants and a black boat neck top - but she had put on mascara and red lipstick, and finished the look off with jewelry, which she normally didn't wear. 

She had 45 minutes to pick Chelsea up from her summer job, get home and get the food on the table before Bill was supposed to be there, so she rushed out the door and into the car, ready to get the evening started. 

Chelsea was still getting changed and she was putting the last of the dishes on the table when she heard the knocking on her screen door.

"Come on in, its open," she called from the dining room. She met him in the foyer and her breath hitched. He looked good. Freshly shaven and casual, he wore khakis and a blue blazer, polo shirt underneath. He held a bouquet of flowers awkwardly by his side and a bottle of wine in his other hand. She smiled and held out her hand for them. 

"I'll assume the flowers are for Chelsea and the alcohol is for me." She kept her tone light, trying to diffuse some of the anxiety she could tell he was feeling.

He let out a breath. "I'll let the two of you sort that out," he replied with a wink. She chuckled.

"Chelsea is finishing getting ready, why don't you come sit in the den while we wait. She had to work so she wanted to change before dinner."

She led them into the sitting area and he took a seat on one of the sofas there. He looked so nervous, she had to take pity on him.

"Relax Bill, you look like you're being led to your death. Let me get you a drink, what'll you have?"

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I just don't know how to do this. I don't want to screw it up." She sat across from him on the other sofa, legs tucked under her. 

"Just be yourself. There's so much the two of you have to learn about each other, it's ok to take it slow. I know this is awkward for everyone but I promise you, she's a wonderful, understanding kid and she'll make it easy. Now, have some wine and loosen up a little, will you?"

He smiled and blew out a breath. "Thank you," he said.

She returned with a glass of red and handed it to him just as Chelsea walked into the room, clean and fresh faced.

"Hey," she said to Bill.

He stood to greet her. "Hey Honey, how are you?" Chelsea took charge and hugged him, and Hillary could see him visibly relax as he put his arms around her. Her girl, always knowing just what people needed. She smiled at the sight.

"Ready to eat?" Hillary asked. 

They filed into the dining room and took their seats.

"Wow Hillary, I'm impressed. This is quite a spread!" He was clearly surprised by her culinary abilities and she had to laugh at the look on his face.

"I told you I cooked, we can't all have our meals made for us you know, Governor." She enjoyed the sheepish look that crossed his face, the adorable clearing of his throat.

Conversation was, as expected, a little awkward and stilted so Hillary took matters into her own hands to hopefully put them out of their misery.

"Guys, this isn't a funeral. We need to loosen up. Let's play a game of sorts. Each of us can ask anyone a question, which they must answer. Who wants to go first?" Bill and Chelsea exchanged glances, then Chelsea raised her hand, ever the student.

"Ok, Bill...should I call you Bill?" She looked to her mother for help.

"You can call me whatever you want, Honey. Bill is fine for now."

"Ok, Bill...are you married and do you have any other kids?" His and Hillary's eyes widened.

"Wow, you sure you don't want to start off with how old I am or what my favorite color is?" He grinned.

Chelsea shook her head.

"Ok. No I'm not married, I've been divorced for 13 years. And no, I don't have any other kids. That I know of." The slight dig at their situation had Hillary rolling her eyes, but she was also intrigued. She had heard that that Joanne woman had been pregnant just after Chelsea was born, so she wondered what had happened there.

"Ok, I guess it's my turn now," he said, looking pointedly at her. "Hillary, what do you do for a living? Chelsea mentioned you have a practice in the area, is that law?"

Good, an easy one. "Yes, I opened a family law practice about 17 years ago. It's a lot of pro bono work, advocating for kids in divorce or abuse cases. It's just me and a partner, so I get to be my own boss, which is nice."

He smiled warmly. "It's nice to know some things never change. You always did have a passion for helping kids. Ok, your turn."

She looked at her daughter with a glint in her eye. 

"So Chels, who is that boy that has been calling here every day for the last week?"

Chelsea groaned and covered her eyes with her hand. Hillary and Bill laughed. "Yeah, do I need to have a talk with him?" Bill added jokingly. She swatted him in the arm, embarrassed.

"His name is James and we work together," she answered, but Hillary could see the pink in her cheeks.

"Do you like him?" She asked. Chelsea held up a hand. "That's a second question, sorry! Not your turn anymore!" Hillary was glad to see the mood lightening, and it was a great way to find out more without seeming nosy. She silently patted herself on the back for her idea.

"Ok, your turn Chels," she said. Chelsea got an equally mischievous look on her face, directed right at her mother.

"Mom, how come that guy Robert stopped calling?" She challenged. Hillary kicked her under the table and Chelsea guffawed.

"Next question!" She said and both Chelsea and Bill shook their heads vigorously. "Nope, this was your idea, remember?" Damn it, she had her dead to rights.

"Fine. He stopped calling because I told him I didn't want to go out with him, ok? He was nice but just not my type and that's all the information you're going to hear on the subject. My turn!" She could see the wheels turning in Bill's head and wondered what he was thinking about.

"Bill, is being Governor everything you thought it would be?" There, she tossed him an easy one.

Bill sighed. "Yes and no. I love working for the people but I sometimes miss the anonymity. It gets a little lonely, wandering around in that big mansion by myself. These few days have honestly been the first conversations in months that aren't about policy or politics in general." Hillary could not hide the shock on her face. The Bill she had known had been so fired up to be a politician, it was a little disheartening to hear he might not be fulfilled doing it.

"Ok, Chelsea...what kind of music do you like?" Chelsea smiled at Hillary, her musical influence.

"Easy...the classics! The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Elton John, Joni Mitchell, anything from that era. Mom tries not to cringe if I ever turn the car radio to Top 40, but she's usually unsuccessful."

Bill laughed. "She raised you right!" 

They went around the table like that all through the rest of dinner and dessert, each filing away little bits of information to take out and think about later. Favorite colors, Movies, vacation spots, sports they liked and books they had read. There were a lot of laughs and by the time the coffee cups had been cleared away, the mood was downright jovial.

The phone rang and Chelsea went to answer it, leaving Bill and Hillary alone again. They could hear an uncharacteristicly girlish squeal come from the other room, so Hillary assumed it was most likely her friend Rachel, who could talk for hours if given the chance. 

"I'll give her 15 minutes then get her back out here," she said, pushing her chair out and standing up. Bill followed her into the kitchen where Hillary began piling the dishes into the sink and started the water running.

"Let her talk, its fine," he said. "You're only a teenager once!" 

He walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder. "Why don't you let me help you with those," he said. He was too close. Hillary didn't understand what the hell was going on with her, how it was he could make her stomach do flip flops, given their history and how long it had been since they'd been in the same room together, but she knew it was dangerous.

She cleared her throat, stepping aside so they stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink.

"Be my guest," she said. "You think I'm going to pass up the opportunity to have a state Governor scrub my pots and pans? No way!" She giggled, and then put her hand over her mouth to stop herself. God, she was acting like a school girl.

He washed and she dried, working in tandem, a companionable silence between them, until Bill spoke softly.

"Hey, you mind if I ask you something?" He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Hillary stared intently at the dish towel in her hands. His tone was personal, probing, and it made her feel self-conscious. "Sure," she answered equally softly.

"You never mentioned being married, am I reading that right?" She nodded, eyes still fixed on her hands. "Why not?" He asked.

She turned around and leaned back against he sink with a sigh. "I don't know, it never seemed right," she answered honestly. "I've dated a few people over the years but only one was ever serious enough to consider something more permanent. I was always very focused on being a mother and on my work, I felt like I had a full life. And I didn't ever want to introduce Chelsea to anyone that I knew wasn't going to be around long term. Jeff, the man I dated for 3 years, had a heart attack at 55 and passed away just after we had decided to move in together. I kind of took that as a sign I was meant to be alone." She stared off thoughtfully, eyes everywhere but on him. She felt his hand slip into hers and it unnerved her.

"I'm so sorry Hillary. That must have been such a difficult time for you and Chelsea," he said with genuine empathy. She nodded in response.

"What about you? I thought I had heard Joanne was pregnant right after I had Chelsea. What happened?"

He swallowed, pain still raw after all these years. "She miscarried at 16 weeks," he said. Hillary squeezed his hand, still held in hers, and he continued, "Our marriage was a disaster from the start. I didn't love her and she didn't love me. But I thought we would try to make it work for the sake of the baby. Once that was no longer a consideration, it all went to hell. Neither one of us was faithful, and by the time we divorced 5 years later, we couldn't even be in the same room with one another. It was the worst five years of my life."

They stood there, Hillary working up the nerve to ask, "And now, is there someone in your life?" She suddenly wished Chelsea would come back - this conversation was getting too personal, too fast.

He turned off the water and dried his hands, then looked at her intently. "Nope. It took me a lot of therapy to get over the toxicity of my marriage, and truthfully I've been pretty gun-shy since then. I haven't been a monk or anything, there have been women, but never love. Not since-"

"I think I hear Chelsea," she pushed herself away from the counter and started to walk away but he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "I just want you to know," he began, eyes boring into hers, "You were the one. You were always the one."

She wrenched herself away from him and put some distance between them. She had to put a stop to this. "What am I supposed to say to that, Bill? You broke my heart all those years ago, and now you waltz back in the door and I'm supposed to fall all over you? How does that end with anything but sorrow for me, and more importantly for Chelsea?" 

He came up to stand behind her, hands hovering over her shoulders. "Hill, I-"

Chelsea came bounding into the kitchen, all apologies for being rude to her guest, totally missing her parents pull away from each other or the veil of tension between them. Hillary pasted on a smile.

"Hey baby girl, why don't you and Bill take a walk, then he probably has to get going. He has an early flight tomorrow." "Thank God," she muttered under her breath.

Bill, eyes never leaving hers, said, "Actually, I've postponed my return so Chelsea and I can spend some more time together. I'm here for the rest of the week." Hillary groaned internally. This was a nightmare. Chelsea was oblivious though, happy only that her father was making extra time for her. And Hillary couldn't begrudge her that. She would just have to make the best of it until he left. 

"The only problem is," he continued, "I've been kicked out of my hotel. Seems they are all booked up due to all the graduation activities and so they weren't able to accommodate me for the week." He looked at her again. "Do you have any idea where I could stay?" 

Oh that unimaginable bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

As if on cue, Chelsea piped up. "Couldn't he stay here Mama?" We have plenty of room and then Bill and I could spend more time together because he'd be right here. What do you think?" 

God damn it, they were both looking at her with their identical expectant pouts and she wanted to kill that man with everything in her. She took a breath. "I don't know Chels, we'll both be working and Bill might just be more comfortable somewhere else." There, she'd said it, fat lot of good it was going to do.

"Please?" Fuck, shit, God damn it. She couldn't say no to that face. She never could.

"Oh alright!" She conceded. "But when we're not here, you're on your own!" She growled.

Bill and Chelsea high fived each other and Hillary couldn't do anything but stand there seething. How was she supposed to be around him for the whole week? 

"I'll move in after I check out of the hotel tomorrow," he said sweetly.

Hillary threw down the dish towel and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving a gleeful Bill and Chelsea in her wake.

Tbc...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about Chelsea, but she doesn't really fit into what they'll be doing for the next couple of chapters. ;) She's taking a brief hiatus but she'll be back!

Two days. He had been there for 48 hours and she was slowly going out of her mind. Try as she might to avoid him, he always seemed to be there, dogging her every time she turned around. When she got up in the morning, there he was, handing her a cup of freshly made coffee. When she got home at night, he had made dinner. He was like a goddamned house husband she she could NOT handle it. He and Chelsea were growing closer by the day - he really was an amazing father, despite his initial reservations - and she seemed to blossom under his attentiveness, for which Hillary was extremely grateful. But she honestly did not know how she was going to make it through the rest of the week with him in her face all the time.

His very presence had Hillary feeling edgy and exposed. She sighed and rolled out of bed, slipping on her robe on the way out of her bedroom. She had to be in court that day so she needed to be up and out the door early, despite her inclination to pull the covers over her head and hide for the next five days. With her luck, he'd have a fucking Smörgåsbord waiting for her when she got downstairs. 

She was so lost in thought, walking and tying the sash of her robe that she didn't register the sound of the bathroom door opening and she collided with his solid form as he came out from his morning shower, towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He reached out quickly to grab her upper arms and keep her from falling, and there she was, staring up into his freshly washed face with her hands anchored to his naked chest. He smiled tenderly and she realized when she could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, just how close they were. And getting closer. His face was moving toward hers, and she was drifting up to meet him, like two magnets drawn together by force. "I'm going to kiss you," he declared, a second before his lips touched hers. It was light and tentative but so warm and familiar and Hillary wanted more. Which was precisely why she needed to pull away before she got lost in him and got her heart smashed into a thousand pieces. Again. 

"Bill," she whispered as she pried her lips from his. He pressed her head against his chest and enveloped her in a hug and she melted. He was warm and alive and she could feel the beating of his heart under her cheek. He also smelled incredible - spicy and masculine - and she realized how long it had been since she'd enjoyed even this simple touch from someone of the opposite sex. It was something she hadn't even known she was missing until that very moment. 

"Just let me hold you a second, ok?" He croaked. She nodded into his chest, too afraid to speak.

A moment later he released her with a kiss to the top of her head. "See you downstairs," he said and headed for the guest room, leaving her standing in the hallway dazed and confused.

She went downstairs and made the coffee, then started preparing breakfast. Bill came into the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed and ready for the day, and she could feel his eyes on her. It unsettled her in a way she hadn't felt, maybe ever. She needed to say something to fill the uneasy silence.

"So, what are you guys planning for the day?" She inquired, holding her coffee cup in her hands like a shield. The marble-topped island stood between them. 

"Well, since Chels has the day off I thought maybe we'd take a drive to Frisco and try to catch a Giants game, if she wants. You wanna join?" He asked hopefully.

"I have a trial today, but you enjoy yourselves. I'm sure she'll love the idea." She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Well, uh, I have to go get dressed, help yourself to breakfast." She moved around the island to walk out of the kitchen but he blocked her path.

"Hillary wait," he pleaded, hands on her shoulders. Too close, again. "Ummm, have a nice day. Good luck in court," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She nodded silently and walked away, hand pressed to the spot his lips had just occupied. Five days seemed like a lifetime.

*****  
It was after eight o'clock when she finally opened the front door, and she was beat. Her case had taken a turn for the worst - the mother had unexpectedly dropped the charges against her abusive husband, which left the child custody case in jeopardy - and now she had to rework her entire argument. The whole afternoon had been a waste of time and left her stressed and irritable. She could already feel a headache brewing behind her eyes and she could use a drink or ten.

She entered the foyer and slipped off her shoes, then walked toward the den, removing her suit jacket and and earrings as she went. Bill was on the sofa with a book in his hand - he looked up at her with a gentle smile as she came in and draped her jacket over the back, then flopped down in the chair opposite him. 

"Tough day?" He asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," she responded. "Where's Chelsea? I thought the two of you would be out on the town." He chuckled and put his book down, almost gleeful.

"Well," he started conspiratorially, "I had asked her to go have dinner after we got home but just before we were about to leave she got a call from James (he fanned himself for emphasis), who asked her to a movie. I think you can guess who won the battle for her affections this evening."

Hillary laughed at his mock pout. "Poor Bill," she said jokingly. 

She closed her eyes and stretched her neck from side to side to work out some of the kinks.  
"Stand up a sec," he commanded. She looked at him warily, but allowed him to pull her out of her seat, which he immediately occupied. He sat her down with her back to him on the ottoman, then scooted forward and straddled it, hands coming to rest on her shoulders. She groaned as he began to knead her, thumbs pressing into the knots and easing the tension she had been carrying the last few days, if not longer. 

"That feels good," she whispered. 

He couldn't get a good grip on her over her silk shirt so he reached around her shoulders and went for the top button, jolting her out of the daze his touch had created.

"Wh..what are you doing?" She asked, stiffening.

Bill leaned close to her ear. "Relax Hillary, let me take care of you. Now take your shirt off like a good girl so I can get to your shoulders better, ok?" She shakily undid the rest of the buttons and the shirt slid off, leaving her in just her lace camisole. His hands picked up where they had left off, with the added benefit of his soft skin against hers. He left one hand on her shoulder, infusing its heat into her, while he used the fingers of the other in small circles starting at the base of her skull and moving in a line down her neck. She could feel her muscles loosening with his ministrations, but his hands on her skin were creating a new ache. An ache she hadn't felt with a man in so long. One centered hot and wet between her thighs. 

"How's that?" He asked softly. 

She cleared her throat, not quite trusting her voice. "Mmmm, much better. Thank you." 

She felt him shift imperceptibly closer, felt the heat of his body radiating against her back a moment before his lips touched her bare shoulder. Once, then again, blazing a path toward her ear, hot breath inflaming her further. "My pleasure," he whispered.

All it took was the slight turn of her head and his mouth met hers for the second time that day, only this time she didn't pull away. In fact, it was she who curved her arm up to hold the back of his neck, and she who opened up and slipped her tongue past his lips with a whimper. His arms wrapped around her waist as the kiss deepened, pulling her closer to him, her back to his chest. It was languid and sensual and God, she never wanted it to end. But all too soon she eased out of it and turned on the ottoman to face him, her knees between his and his hands coming to rest on her thighs. She looked down at her lap, suddenly unsure of herself, and he tilted her chin up with a finger so they were eye to eye.

"What is it?" He asked.

"This. You...us. I'm terrified," she admitted.

He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her fingers in a soothing motion. 

"Tell me what you're afraid of," he pleaded.

"You left me once and it shattered me. I've had a nice life and I've made peace with being alone. Now you're back and I'm feeling things I didn't ever think I'd feel again, with you, and the thought of opening myself up to you and being burned scares the hell out of me." 

There she had said it. She felt relieved to get that weight off her chest.

He sighed, thoughtful. "Hill, I've spent so many years now regretting the hurt I caused you, I could never do that to you again. Seeing you, being with you and our daughter these past few days has made me realize that I never got over you, and I'll never feel for someone else the way I feel about you. The way I've always felt." She looked at him, her eyes misty. 

"I want to believe you." A Whisper. She inched closer.

"Believe me." His voice equally soft, head tilting.

"I don't want to be alone anymore." She closed her eyes. Her breathing quickened.

"You don't have to be. Let me in." His hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her closer still.

"Yes." Barely audible as their faces came within centimeters of each other. She licked her bottom lip then scraped her teeth across it. The anticipation was killing her.

He closed the gap and melded his mouth to hers, licking over her lips then sucking the bottom one into the warm wet haven of his mouth. A hand stayed on the back of her head and the other caressed her cheek, causing her to open her mouth wider to make room for his soft sweet tongue. She moaned low in the back of her throat, pleasure coursing through her veins like a drug. God, how had she gone without this for so long? She thought he could probably get her off right there, fully clothed, if he kept kissing her like that. 

They pulled apart for air and he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed and chest heaving. Hillary felt out of her element. Did she invite him up to her bedroom? Did she ask him to take her right there in the chair? Should they stop and eat dinner? What did she do now? What should she say?

He must have sensed her internal struggle - he gave her a peck and leaned back, eyes soft.

"Hey, we have time, let's not rush into anything ok? Can you take the day off tomorrow? Chels has to work and we could spend it together, just the two of us. Please?" He caressed her lips with his thumb and she was lost. He had an uncanny ability to know just what she needed.

"I can do that," she agreed, eliciting a genuine smile from him.

"Good. Now that that's settled, I'm hungry. My date ditched me earlier and I haven't eaten since lunch. How do you feel about pancakes for dinner?" 

Tbc...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3, Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have a lot of lost time to make up for ;)

Bill took the stairs two at a time, coffee in hand. He couldn't believe that Hillary had slept in as late as she had - Chelsea had already gone off to work and he had already had one cup of coffee - but he hadn't had the heart to wake her. Now though, they needed to get going if they wanted to have breakfast before getting on the road. 

Receiving no answer when he knocked on the door, he turned the knob and pushed it open, then poked his head around to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything. Hillary was still sound asleep, curled on her side facing him. She looked so goddamned beautiful - all soft and sleepy - with the strap of her gauzy summer nightgown slipping ever so slightly off her shoulder. Incredibly sexy.

He set the coffee mug on her nightstand and bent down in front of the bed, trailing his finger lightly up her arm to hook in the wide strap of her nightgown and push it back in place. 

"Hill," he whispered. "Honey, it's time to wake up." He saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a smile just before her eyes fluttered open. 

"Morning," she said adoringly, sitting up on her elbow.

"Hey. I brought coffee."

"Mmmm, thanks." 

She stretched languidly and it was just too much. He had to kiss her. He grabbed her face and pushed her back against the pillows, plundering her mouth with his. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, lazily tangling her tongue with his. The tiny whimpers she was making were spurring him on - he couldn't remember ever being so consumed with desire - and when she hooked her leg around his waist he thought he might just die right there. 

He pulled away from the kiss and trailed his lips over her jaw to her ear, biting her earlobe gently then licking it with his tongue. 

"How would you feel about skipping breakfast?" He whispered seductively. 

She giggled. "I don't know...Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Mmmmmm," she moaned again as his hand covered her breast over her nightgown and massaged gently.

His mouth moved down her neck and across her chest, kissing and licking the exposed skin, so pale and soft like silk. "I'd much rather taste you," he murmured between her breasts. He needed her like his next breath.

Hillary was squirming under him now, foot moving up and down the back of his thigh, driving him wild. "Ohhhhh Bill," she sighed as she pulled at his shirt. He helped her get if off and then she brought his face to hers again for a kiss, hot and hard.

Bill's hand slipped under her nightgown and around to her ass, massaging the supple flesh there before moving to the outside of her thigh and inward, then slowly, slowly up to her center where he cupped her through the drenched fabric of her panties. 

"So wet already," he whispered against her mouth. "Can I take them off?"

She nodded and he slid the soaking garment down over her trembling thighs and off, then she quickly pulled her nightgown over her head, leaving her completely naked under him.

"Beautiful," he said reverently.

"Touch me," she breathed. 

Bill dipped his middle finger into her, so moist and swollen with arousal, and they both groaned as her velvety walls enveloped the slender digit. She was so fucking tight that his cock twitched at the thought of being sheathed inside her, surrounded by all that soft slippery heat, and he had to close his eyes to try to get his body under control before he embarrassed himself. He pistoned his finger in and out of her a few times and then drew it slowly up the length of her slit until he reached her pearl, circling it with just enough pressure to make her hips arch. 

"Does that feel good baby?" He purred. 

"Mmmmmm God, so good," she cooed. "You still know just how I like it." 

He continued the light circular strokes to her clit until she was whimpering, hips thrusting in time to his fingers, mouth open and panting. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her head tossed restlessly from side to side. 

"Honey, I'm so close," she said desperately. He increased the pace on her clit and, kissing his way down to her breast, he rasped, "I remember just how to make you come," as his lips closed over her nipple. The sensation of him suckling her in tandem with his finger rubbing her clit was exactly what she needed and she came with a wail, the elegant column of her neck exposed as she threw her head back in ecstasy. 

He rolled onto his side next to her as she came down from the high of her orgasm, and she turned to face him, eyes bright. Her hand came up to caress the smooth skin of his cheek. Her smile was soft, dreamy.

"You ok?" He asked.

"I'm incredible," she replied. "You're incredible." She reached for the waistband of his pants. "Take them off," she demanded. He quickly complied and she wasted no time going for his hardened cock. There was already a generous amount of precum oozing from the head and she spread it with her thumb, then gave him a long hard stroke down to the base and back up. The feel of her dainty hand wrapped around him was almost too much.

"You've got to stop Baby. I don't want this to be over yet," he stammered. 

She moved closer to him, chest to chest and locked him in a tight embrace, kissing up to his ear. "Tell me what you want," she breathed. He grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg over his hip, then bent his knees and prepared to enter her. "I want to be in you," he begged. So she wrapped her hand around him again and lined him up, then dropped her hips so he could start to push slowly inside. 

She was silky and wet and unbelievably tight, and his control was slipping fast as she closed around him. He stilled. "Fuckkkkkkkk," he husked when he was finally inside her to the hilt. "Christ, you feel fucking amazing." She started to move her hips and he stopped her with a hand on her ass. "Give me a minute Honey," he pleaded. "I don't want to come yet."

Her hot breath on his chest, "It's ok, just tell me what you need." 

He thrust inside of her in short pulses - he couldn't stand too much friction yet - but he wanted to give her pleasure, so he circled his hips in a way he knew she liked. "Yesssss," she hissed as his pubic bone made contact with her still-sensitive clit. He held her ass for leverage as he pulled halfway out and then stroked upward, rolling his hips against her mound again and again. It was slow and sensual and the sensations his movements were causing were delicious. He knew he wasn't going to last long, it had been a while for him and he was beyond overwhelmed by being inside her, but he wanted to make it good for her so he took his time to build her up again. Hopefully he could get another orgasm out of her before he rolled her onto her back and took his own release. 

"That's it Bill, so good," she mewled. "I love you." It slipped from her lips in a sigh.

"God I love you too Baby," he replied, touched by her declaration.

One more roll of his hips against her and he felt the spasms begin deep around his cock. "I'm going to come," she choked, a second before she clenched him hard from inside. "Mmmm good girl, let me feel you," he whispered. 

The ripples had barely died down when Bill pushed her onto her back. "Ok Hill, I need to move," he begged. She went willingly and he began a frantic pace, slamming into her and letting her hot sheath massage him. It only took three strokes before he was coming, sobbing into her neck as he emptied himself inside of her. She caressed his hair as he lay panting on her chest. 

He couldn't help it, he began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" She asked with mock incredulity.

"You completely ruined my plans for the day! I was going to wine you and dine you and seduce you so good," he laughed.

Now she really was incredulous. "Hmm, if memory serves, YOU woke ME up a while back and proceeded to ravish me, I'm failing to see how that's my fault." She gave him a playful smack to the chest.

"Well if you hadn't been so goddamned sexy stretching like that in front of me, I wouldn't have had to take you right then, but you were and I did, so here we are." 

"Are you sorry we didn't wait?" She asked, feeling a bit insecure.

"God no, that was fantastic. Are you sorry?" 

"Not for a second." She laid her head on his chest and he trailed his fingers up and down her arm lightly.

"Hey," he asked a while later.

"Yeah?"

"When you said that you loved me earlier, was that a heat of passion thing, or did you really mean it?" He was nervous, so she lifted up on her elbow to look down at his face.

"That depends," she said with a smile. "Did you mean it when you said it back?"

He reached up a hand to caress her cheek. "Absolutely. I always have," he said sincerely.

She stopped so her lips hovered over his. "I...love...you..." she punctuated each word with a kiss until he grabbed the back of her head to hold her to him, lips melding lazily.

His stomach growled as the kiss deepened and she giggled into his mouth. 

"Come on, I'll make you breakfast," she said. "It's the least I can do after how I wantonly seduced you earlier." He laughed as she got up and took him by the hand. 

"I love the way you think," he said with a wink. 

Tbc...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3, mid-morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this Chapter, but it's done.

They padded downstairs in their robes and bare feet and Bill began rummaging through the fridge. 

Hillary, as promised, made him breakfast - more brunch by the time they got to it - omelettes and fresh fruit, which they devoured slowly. They ate from each other's forks and took pieces of fruit from the other's fingers, letting the seduction hang heavy in the air. Now that he had reawakened that sexual being inside of her, she felt insatiable, a feeling she was unaccustomed to but thoroughly enjoying.

He went back to the refrigerator and her eyes followed him, drifting to his adorable butt as he bent down to take some more fruit out of the crisper. She unconsciously bit her lip, cheeks reddening, as he turned around and caught her shamelessly ogling him. He smiled, amused by her embarrassment.

"Why Ms. Rodham, were you just staring at my butt?" 

She shrugged sheepishly and waggled her eyebrows. He walked up to where she was leaning against the center island and set down the strawberries beside her, then grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, depositing her onto the cool marble counter. Her legs automatically wrapped around him and he leaned into her, hands on either side of her hips, eyes bright and focused on hers.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to be impolite?" He drawled, licking his lips seductively and causing her to clench her thighs tighter around him. His voice was such a turn on. 

"Baby, I can think of a lot of things I want to do to you and none of them are polite," she husked in reply. 

He smiled and drifted closer to her. "Can you now?" His eyebrow arched just before his lips captured hers. She circled her arms loosely around his neck. The kiss was hot and demanding, and she sucked in a breath when he casually slipped his hand into the opening of her robe and fondled her breast, nipple already stiff in anticipation. "Godddd," she moaned. 

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered. 

"No." His lips paused on their journey from her jawline to her shoulder.

"No?" 

Her voice dropped. "I want you, here. Now." She felt him shudder.

"Mmmm, such a naughty girl," he teased, hands traveling down to the tie of her robe and untying it. He pushed it off her shoulders and it pooled at her wrists where her hands now rested on the marble. 

"So damned sexy," he rasped, his gaze resting on her glistening center.

"Are you wet for me?" He asked.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"Yes." Dripping was more like it. He leaned closer and breathed deep. She was sure he could smell her arousal.

"Do you want to feel me inside of you?" He purred.

"God yes." 

He opened his robe and stood before her, stroking himself erect before pulling her ass to the edge of the countertop. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck again and he lined himself up at her entrance. They both watched as he pushed in slowly, disappearing into her silky depths until he couldn't go any further, her body swallowing his length greedily. Hillary buried her face in his shoulder and cried out from the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

"Hillary," he choked.

He began a lazy rhythm, pulling out almost completely then pushing back in, but she found there wasn't enough friction and she was getting frustrated. She needed more.

"Harder." She was begging. She wanted to feel all of him.

She leaned back on her hands and he went forward, changing the angle so that he could grind against her clit with each push. One hand held the small of her back while the other found purchase on her thigh where it was wrapped around his waist. He brought his mouth to her breast to tongue the taught bud of her nipple and she inhaled sharply.

"Like that?" 

"Oh...oh yes honey, just like that! Please don't stop!"

Bill was relentless, pushing and retreating, sweat running in rivulets off his forehead and onto her chest. His lips, now at her ear, grunting words of love and sex. Graphic descriptions of what he was doing to her right there in the middle of her kitchen, driving them closer and closer to release with every thrust of his hips. She was reduced to a series of groans and whimpers, lost in a tide of feeling when he finally pressed his finger to her clit and circled, then the tide broke and the release, hot and liquid, flowed through her from head to toe.

"Yes! Ohhhhhh yes!" She sobbed with every delectable wave. 

"That's right, come all over that cock!" He growled.

Her warm slick juices coated him as he continued to slam into her, brow furrowed and jaw set. She knew he needed to come so she tightened her walls around him and felt him get impossibly hard inside her, so close, but not quite there.

"That's it Baby, you're almost there . You feel so incredible inside me. Come for me." She shifted her hips upward a fraction and his jerked in response as he hit the sweet spot.

"Fuck Hillary, I'm coming," he groaned as his rhythm faltered and his knees started to give out. He pushed a few more times and she felt the heat of his seed spread inside of her, infusing her with its warmth and then trickling out of her and onto the counter beneath. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back and collapsed shakily into her, breath ragged on her neck and heart pounding frantically against her chest.

"Damn," he panted. 

They stayed locked together for a few moments, attempting to catch their breath. 

"Well, looks like I can now scratch 'kitchen counter' off the list of places I've had sex," she snickered. "And it only took 51 years." Her shoulders shook with amusement. 

"That was..." he began.

"Yeah," she finished. He placed a soft kiss on her lips as she unwrapped her legs from around him and slid off the counter.

They broke apart with a peck and rearranged their clothing, slowly erasing all evidence of their tryst. Hillary cleared up the dishes and Bill put the uneaten food back in the refrigerator and they met up in the middle. Bill wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"So, now that you've gotten in my pants, twice, and I've fed you, what's next on your big agenda?" She chuckled. 

He kissed her temple. "I don't really care what we do, Sweetheart. Honestly I just want to be with you," he said with sincerity. 

She smiled up at him. "I've got an idea," she said, pulling him by the hand toward the den.

Tbc...


	11. Chapter 11

The last eighteen years of their lives, or at least the visual evidence thereof, were currently strewn across the large coffee table in the den. Hillary had dragged out a huge plastic tote from the closet and committed to taking a walk down memory lane for his benefit, giving him a precious glimpse of the daughter he had just met but already loved so much. They had started with Chelsea's baby book, where he got to see the tiny footprints from the hospital birth certificate, he found out her first word was 'moo' and touched the pale blonde ringlet that Hillary had saved after her first haircut (at 14 months, written in Hillary's neat handwriting on the envelope). Her sweet first grade picture where, according to Hillary, she had tried to cut her daughter's bangs herself in a fit of madness, which didn't end well for Chelsea. Add to that the fact that her two front teeth were entirely missing and it made for the most awkwardly adorable thing he'd ever seen. 

Hillary had made a scrapbook for each year of the girl's life, cataloging the last 12 years of school pictures, prized drawings and homemade cards, sports medals and academic certificates. In separate albums were snapshots of mother and child on trips to the zoo, family vacations and hundreds of other various outings. Happy, smiling, always the two of them together. There was something about the way Chelsea looked at her mother, a way Hillary probably didn't even see but that anyone else with eyes could, that told of the unbreakable bond between them. And as much as Bill appreciated getting a peek at their lives, there was also a deep sadness that began to creep in. A feeling of longing to be a part of that family unit and painful regret that he hadn't been. Maybe even a pinch of resentment that the opportunity had been kept from him by forces out of his control. All of those emotions were coalescing into a knot that settled right in the pit of his stomach, and try as he might to push it down, it persisted until he felt the overwhelming need to get out of the room.

Hillary was wrapping up a story about Chelsea's first high school dance when he suddenly stood up and put down the album he had been holding.

"Well, I better get dressed before Chelsea comes home and finds us still in our robes," he said softly. He could tell he had thrown her off and it definitely wasn't his intention to upset her, but he needed a few minutes alone to compose himself.

"Okay," she responded, equally softly. He kissed her on the cheek and headed for the stairs, turning around when he reached the bottom to watch her as she cleaned up the scattered pieces of Rodham history they had spent the afternoon looking at. 

He got to the guest room and the dam burst, tears flowing freely from his eyes like the soft summer rain. So much had happened in such a short time, he guessed he was just not processing everything the way he should. Finally the emotional tightrope he'd been walking on the past 5 days had snapped and he felt like he was about to come crashing to the ground without a net. He sank down on the bed and covered his face with his hands.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there swiping at his tears and thinking about everything he had missed out on, when a soft knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. He scrubbed his hand over his face and cleared his throat before bidding her entrance.

"Come in," he called, trying to convey a sense of steadiness he didn't necessarily feel.

Hillary opened the door cautiously. She had gotten dressed, something he remembered he was supposed to have done but had been too caught up to manage yet. She was, as always, beautiful and he couldn't help but smile warmly at her despite his tumultuous mental state.

"Hey," she said lightly. He could see she felt uncomfortable, but she barreled on. "If I did something to upset you, I want to apologize. I have to admit I'm probably no good at reading you, so I'm not sure what happened down there but I'm sorry, I-"

He put a hand up to quiet her. "Honey stop," he requested, taking her by the hand and encouraging her to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat to face her and took both of her hands in his, stroking them between his fingers gently. He looked down at their joined hands instead of at her as he spoke.

"It was nothing you did, Hill. I guess, looking at all of your happy memories and seeing how wonderfully you've raised Chelsea by yourself made me realize some things I wasn't prepared to feel and I'm probably not dealing with it very well." 

He looked at her then and saw her eyes encouraging him to go on, hands squeezing his in silent support. He sighed. 

"First, it occurred to me how miserable my life has been in contrast, never having had anyone to share it with. You and Chels have had each other and I see such love and affection there. That's something I've longed for my whole adult life. And I also realized how much of my daughter's life I missed, and it's eating at me. Birthdays, holidays, father-daughter dances. Watching her take her first steps or teaching her to ride a bike, hit a baseball or tie her shoes. All of that happened without me and I hate it. And I hate that fucking piece of shit Morris for doing what he did. God I want to find that man and beat him to a pulp. And I know you never felt you could come to me, and that breaks my heart. It's all such a mess!" 

He was crying again, unashamedly this time and she took him in her arms where they sat on the bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." He sobbed into her shoulder.

Her next words were spoken in hushed tones. "I should have tried harder to reach you, I know. But in the beginning I was so angry and scared and heartbroken that I gave up. And when I finally put that behind me, I honestly thought you had moved on with your own life and were starting your family. I could never bring myself to find out more over the years because it was just too painful and I was so afraid of Chelsea being rejected that I perpetuated the lie. For that I am deeply sorry." She took a breath and pushed him away so she could look at him. He could tell what she was going to say next might not be something he wanted to hear.

"Tell me something," she began, clearly searching for the right words. "Let's say I had insisted on telling you about the pregnancy or even about Chelsea after she was born. Would the Bill Clinton from that time really have been able to deal with that? You were so consumed with being in public office then that you got engaged to and married someone you didn't love, by your own admission, because it polled better. Had the scandal of an illegitimate child ruined your political career, don't you think you'd feel nothing but resentment for me and for Chelsea? I know Dick Morris is an asshole, I hate him too, but would you have done something different if you had known? I want you to be honest."

He looked downcast again. "Oh God you're probably right, and that makes me an even bigger prick than Morris!" He cried. The truth was like a punch in the gut, but she softened the blow.

"Look, I believe things happen to us for a reason. Think about all of the recent circumstances that led you to this moment. If just one of those things had been different you wouldn't be sitting here. If Chelsea hadn't been accepted to Stanford, if she hadn't read my journal or sent you that letter. If you had chosen not to answer her or if she hadn't gotten up the courage up to walk over to your table and talk to you, and if you hadn't come to stay here, our lives would all be moving in separate directions. But all of those little pieces just fit together and that has to mean something. To me it means we have a chance, a REAL chance to do things right. For you to be the father to Chelsea that she's needed, and for us to be a family, if that's what you want. I know it's easy to get caught up in what-might-have-beens but why not think about what could be instead? I'm sorry, I'm rambling but I-"

He stopped her with a kiss, deep and affirming, cradling her face as he poured all of his feelings into her. She was right, he knew. And he didn't want to let this chance slip him by. 

"Thank you," he breathed. "For putting things in perspective. I love you."

She smiled and traced her fingertips from his forehead to his cheek, then rubbed her thumb over it. "Love you too," she replied.

"How are we going to tell Chelsea? I mean, about us? And just what does 'us' mean?" She asked tentatively. 

"I don't know, you're the expert in parenting, I'm going to leave this in your capable hands," he teased. "As far as we are concerned, we obviously need to work out the logistics but I'm not letting you go. Not now that I've found you again."

"Oh no no no," she admonished. "You better brush up on your dad skills stat because we tell her together, got it?" She couldn't keep the smile from her voice. "It's going to be one hell of a conversation, I'm sure."

He snickered. "Can we just keep it to ourselves for today and bask in it? We can tell Chelsea tomorrow but today, and tonight," his voice dropped an octave, "I want you to myself."

She could see the logic in that. "Fine, one day. We will sit her down tomorrow over breakfast, ok?"

Tbc...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4

Through a sleepy haze she felt the other side of the bed shift, then a pair of warm arms wrap around her from behind. She smiled when she felt his chin rest on her shoulder, breath on her cheek. 

"Good Morning," he drawled.

"Mmmmm, yes it is. How'd you sleep?" She put her arms over his where they rested on her waist. 

"Tell you the truth, I haven't slept that well in years, he confessed. She chuckled.

"Hmmm, is that because you're so comfortable in my bed or because of all the sex you've had in the last 24 hours?" She heard him clear his throat behind her.

"I suppose it's a bit of both," he admitted sheepishly. "Either way, I'm attributing it to you." He kissed her shoulder. Then higher. Then higher again to her ear, while his hand crept lower and lower to the hem of her nightgown, fingertips gently pushing it up her legs and around her waist. 

"Christ, do you have any idea what you do to me?" he breathed.

She wriggled her bottom against his growing erection and sighed.

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." 

He wasted no time slipping his hand into her panties to touch her with his long, elegant fingers. 

"Seems I have an effect on you too," he purred.

Her breath caught in her throat. If that wasn't the understatement of the decade, she didn't know what was.

Unsatisfied with simply touching her, Bill coaxed her onto her back and kissed her sensually, tracing her lips with his tongue before sliding it into her mouth and swirling it with hers. He lay on top of her, resting with his forearms beside her head. Hillary wrapped her arms under his and around his back, scratching lightly with her nails as he continued to kiss her. She whimpered softly when he left her mouth and moved his lips lower to concentrate on her jaw, then shoulder and lower still to her chest. He disappeared under the duvet and she felt his tongue near the waistband of her underwear as he settled between her legs. Bill rolled to the side to remove the drenched piece of fabric and then she felt his hot breath at her center. Hillary stifled a moan.

He curled his arm up to rest it on her abdomen and used two fingers to spread her open and expose her clit, then a soft, tentative lap to the sensitive bundle as one finger slowly entered her.  
Hillary blew out a breath and closed her eyes tightly as she felt it curve up inside her and brush her g-spot. He was taking no prisoners this morning and she was benefitting from it in spades. Bill's tongue on her clit became more insistent as he added another finger and brushed them back and forth lightly over the tender area inside. 

She was going to come. It was going to be long and it was going to be loud and she knew she couldn't stop it when he latched onto her clitoris and sucked it into his mouth. A shriek escaped her as the orgasm slammed into her like a freight train. She bit her bicep hard to keep from crying out repeatedly with every lash of his tongue and fingers against her stimulated nerve endings.

Bill was about to go for round two when there was a loud knock on the door and Chelsea's worried voice from the other side. 

"Mom, are you ok?" Bill snickered under the covers and she smacked the top of his head and whispered, "Shit, she can't find you here, get in the bathroom!"

"Coming Honey! Hillary yelled shakily, pushing the blankets off her and straightening her nightgown. She felt around for her glasses on the nightstand and put them on.

"Yes you were," he purred, slapping her butt as he hurried toward the bathroom. She gave him an exasperated look before he disappeared.

Hillary flung the door open a little too quickly and smiled a little too brightly.

"Morning sweetheart," she panted. 

"Everything ok?" her daughter asked suspiciously, blue eyes darting around the room.

"Fine Baby! Why do you ask?" She sounded so transparent it was almost laughable.

"I thought I heard you yell," Chelsea said. 

Hillary chuckled nervously. "Oh that? I, uh, was coming out of the bathroom and there was a huge spider running across the floor. Scared the daylights out of me! Sorry Chels, I didn't mean to worry you." There, at least one part of that statement was not a complete lie.

"Ok," Chelsea answered a bit skeptically. "Well, I'm going to go get dressed. I'll see you downstairs in a while." She started walking down the hall and turned back to her mother. 

"Did you get him at least?" 

Hillary was dumbfounded. "Wha-?"

"The spider, Mom. Did you get him?"

Another uneasy laugh. "You bet I did Baby," she said with a wink. "See you at breakfast."

She closed the door and leaned back against it with an exaggerated breath. Just then the bathroom door creaked open slowly and Bill emerged with a huge grin. Hillary gave him a sideways glance and rolled her eyes. 

"A spider? Good one Hill!" he laughed. 

She put her finger to her lips to shush him but also couldn't quite contain her laughter. They both doubled over, hands covering their mouths for fear their daughter would hear them. 

"Get in there," she commanded, shooing him into the en suite and following behind him. 

After a shower, in which Hillary punished him for his earlier cheekiness by giving him a world-class blowjob as he leaned against the cool tile, Bill snuck back to his room to change and they both headed downstairs to greet Chelsea. It was time to let her in on their secret. 

Chelsea was standing in the kitchen, orange juice in hand when the pair came downstairs dressed and ready for the day. She looked up and smiled.

"Morning Honey," Bill said with a kiss to her cheek. "Sleep well?" 

Chelsea nodded. "How 'bout you? How'd you sleep Bill?" she asked pointedly.

"Can't complain," he answered. 

"I guess Mom's scream didn't wake you up then?" 

Bill feigned ignorance. "Nope, didn't hear a thing. Everything ok Hill?" he asked, casting a furtive glance in Hillary's direction.

"Spider," Hillary said by way of explanation. 

Bill shook his head. "Ooooh, gotta be careful of those. I hope you got him!"

Chelsea looked back and forth between her parents in disbelief.

"You know what's so weird?" she asked.

Hillary took the bait. "What's that Sweetheart?"

"It's weird how both you and Bill have wet hair, yet the guest bathroom hasn't been used this morning." She let her eyes drift from Hillary to Bill, who were trying not to look at each other.

"Hmmm, that is weird, isn't it?" Hillary said absentmindedly.

"I know!" affirmed Chelsea. "And you know what else is really strange? The fact that after I heard your shower start Mom, I went to look for Bill and he was nowhere to be found. And his bedroom looked like it hadn't been slept in at all. Bed was still made and everything. Isn't that funny?"

Suddenly both parents found their hands extremely interesting, much more interesting than the look they were getting from Chelsea. A hot blush was creeping from Hillary's neck up to her face.

"You guys are totally doing it aren't you?" 

Hillary covered her eyes with her hand, head bowed, and Bill looked everywhere but at his daughter, who was now laughing incredulously.

"OH MY GOD, you really are!" she shouted. She was finding the whole situation a bit too hilarious for Hillary's liking.

"Chel-SEA," she warned. 

But Chelsea couldn't contain her glee. "A spider, Mom? Really? I know exactly what you two were doing, as gross as it is to think about."

"Thanks for that, Chels," Hillary interjected.

Bill snorted next to her, shoulders shaking with laughter. Hillary smacked him in the chest and looked at Chelsea. "We were going to tell you this morning but-"

"Bill got carried away and you couldn't keep it down and you got found out before you had a chance?" Chelsea interrupted.

Hillary shook her head in complete mortification, her cheeks now blazing red. "Well, this couldn't possibly be anymore embarrassing," she mumbled.

"I hope you two are practicing safe sex," Chelsea admonished with a glint in her eye.

"I stand corrected!" Hillary whispered. 

Bill took Hillary's hand in his, a show of solidarity, and they both looked at Chelsea.

"Seriously though Chels, are you ok with this?" he asked.

Chelsea looked him up and down, narrowing her eyes. "That depends. What are your intentions toward my mother?" 

He was taken aback at first, but realized it was a fair question given what Chelsea knew of their earlier relationship. He squeezed Hillary's hand and smiled down at her. 

"I've loved your mom for 20 years Honey, and for some reason we've been lucky enough to find our way back to each other. I don't intend to let her get away again. I want us, you me and your mom, to be a family, if that's what you want. What do you think?" he asked nervously. 

Chelsea smiled a watery smile. Despite her earlier teasing, she was touched by Bill's declaration.

"I think this has been the weirdest week of my life," she replied. 

Hillary nodded. "I know it's a lot to take in Baby," she said. "It kind of took us by surprise too."

"How's it going to work?" Chelsea asked. "I mean, you're a Governor, it's not like you can just quit your job and move out here."

Bill sighed. This was bound to come up sometime, and he hadn't come up with an answer yet. He looked to Hillary for guidance, and as usual she jumped right in.

"Baby, we haven't even thought that far ahead. Like I said, everything just kind of happened and we've been-"

Chelsea cleared her throat. "Yeah, I can guess what you've been doing!"

Hillary gave her a mock glare. "My point is, we haven't really worked it all out yet, but we will."

That seemed to satisfy her momentarily and she nodded. "Okay."

"Do you love him?" she asked her mother.

"Yes. I do."

"And you're going to treat her the way she deserves?" To her father.

"Absolutely, Honey. I promise you."

"Are you going to make an honest woman out of her?" There was that gleam in her eye again. Hillary guffawed. Bill pulled on his earlobe and chuckled.

"Don't answer that," Hillary warned, holding up a hand.

Chelsea laughed and her parents joined in. Her parents. Together. She couldn't believe the direction their lives had taken in less than a week's time, but she wasn't going to question it. Not one little bit. 

Tbc...


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4, Evening

Bill saw the motion sensor porch light go on and heard the creak of the screen door. 11:58pm - Chelsea was sneaking in just under curfew - from another date with James. 

She must have seen the light from the TV because she poked her head into the den with a wave. Bill held his finger to his lips and pointed to Hillary, who lay curled up on the end of the sofa, feet still in his lap. She had made it about halfway through The Philadelphia Story when Bill had glanced over and seen her eyelids fluttering closed, and soon her legs had gotten heavier against him and she had sighed and snuggled deeper into the couch cushions. That had been 45 minutes ago so Bill was fairly certain she was sound asleep. 

"How was your date?" he whispered to Chelsea. 

She smiled coyly. "It was just dinner, no big deal," she said, but Bill could see the flush in her cheeks, hear the softness in her voice.

"Seems there's been quite a few 'no big deals' this week. You like this guy?" 

She sighed, a gentle exhalation of breath. "Yeah, I think I do," she admitted, but she seemed a little hesitant and Bill noticed.

"Let's go in the kitchen so we don't wake up your mom," he said as he gingerly slid out from underneath Hillary. She stirred but didn't wake.

Chelsea followed him. "So, you like him, and he obviously likes you, how come I'm sensing something other than joy from you?"

"He kissed me," she blurted. Bill smiled.

"Yeah? Like a little kiss, or a REAL kiss?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Chelsea chuckled. "A real one. Well, two real ones actually." She blushed sweetly.

"So was he a terrible kisser? Is that why you seem a little sad?" He was trying to draw her out, get her to open up to him. 

"No, not at all. I don't know..." she searched for the right words. "It's just we're both starting school in a couple months and I'll be here and he's going all the way across the country to Brown so I keep thinking it's not worth it to continue the way we are, I don't know..." 

Bill smiled. "Ahhh, the prospect of a long distance relationship. I understand." And he did. He understood all too well, considering his and Hillary's history as well as what was more than likely in their future. 

"You know, I could lie to you and tell you those things are easy, but I won't. It's very, very difficult to maintain a connection without physical proximity, but that's not to say it can't be done and it's not to say it's not worth it. There's also something to be said for a summer romance. You're only eighteen Honey, and you have so many new and wonderful experiences coming up in your life. Why not just have some fun over the summer and then see what happens?"

Chelsea sighed again. "We are having fun, it's just hard to think about more than that right now, and I don't want either of us to get hurt."

"The best thing you can do is set expectations, I think. That way both of you know what the other is thinking. Be honest. You might find he's feeling the same way."

"Thank you. You're so easy to talk to, you know?"

"Anytime Sweetheart. Now, when do we get to meet him?"

"How about never?" she teased. "I just know Mom is waiting for the right time to get me back for embarrassing her this morning. I can only imagine what she'll do if I bring a guy home!"

"Aww come on Chels, would we do that to you?" he laughed. "Besides I've got a Monday morning flight, I'd love to size this boy up before I go. Not to mention, we all have something in common; we think you're pretty special. I promise to keep your mom on her best behavior."

She rolled her eyes. "Ok, ok. We're supposed to go out again tomorrow night, I'll have him come in and say hi before we go. All right?"

"Sounds like a plan. And speaking of plans, I would like to solicit your help tomorrow while your mom is at work, if you have a couple of hours free."

Chelsea was intrigued. "Sounds interesting. Can I ask what for?"

Bill took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ring shopping," he whispered, looking in the direction of the den to make sure everything was still quiet.

Chelsea's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? You're going to propose? Oh my god!" 

He fiddled with his earlobe nervously. "Do you think it's too soon? I don't want to scare her away, but I also don't want to leave without her knowing I'm committed to a life together. How do you feel about it?" 

Chelsea stopped his rambling with a hug. "I think it's awesome. I think she's totally going to freak."

"Freak, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.

Chelsea appeared to think for a moment before she said, "You know you're only the second guy she's ever admitted she had feelings for?" 

She looked like she felt bad for betraying a confidence but continued, "The other guy, Jeff. He was really nice and we had fun together but she dated him for over a year before I ever met him. And even then, he never stayed over. After 3 years, I think he started to get impatient so she finally agreed to let him move in with us. I was thirteen and I wasn't happy about someone competing for my mom's affections, so I was not that excited about it, but I knew she cared about him so I accepted it. When he died, Mom kind of shut down for a while. I know she had a few dates here and there since then but she never talked about anyone special again. Until this morning, and you."

She went on, "All I'm trying to say is you must be pretty important if she said she loved you after three days. And I never saw her look at Jeff the way she looks at you in all the two years I was around them together so yeah, I think she's going to freak, in a good way."

Bill blew out a breath. "So how do you think I should do it? I'm kind of out of my element here," he admitted.

"Well first, let's pick out a ring!" She was obviously excited to be part of it, which made Bill smile. 

"Then, I think you should take her out. Maybe get her a little tipsy," she giggled. "Don't do anything crazy like put the ring in a glass of champagne or a dessert or anything because knowing Mom she'd choke on it and end up in the hospital." 

"Ok, no hidden ring, got it." he chuckled. "I want to marry her, not kill her!"

Chelsea had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled out of her.

"You could bring her back here after and suggest sitting out back. I'll set it all up for you. Then you can ask her." 

Bill liked the idea and trusted Chelsea's instincts. After all, she knew her mother better than anyone. 

"I think it sounds perfect. And I think if we work together, we might be able to pull it off!"

"Annnnd, if you let me stay out past curfew tomorrow night, I can promise not to interrupt you!" she hedged.

"You know, ordinarily I'd say I didn't have the authority to override your mom's rules, but in this instance I'll make an exception. You've got an extra hour, and I'll take the heat if your mom gets mad. Deal?" 

Chelsea held out her hand for a shake. "Deal!"

"Now off to bed with you!" he commanded with a sweep of his hand. "We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow!" 

She headed for the stairs but turned to him before she left the kitchen.

"Writing you that letter was the best thing I ever did," she told him.

"For me too Honey." he choked. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Bill."

Tbc...


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5

Bill rolled over to find her side of the bed empty. He scrubbed his hand over his face and then through his hair before sitting up against the headboard and taking a look around the room. He truly was amazed at how well he had slept the last two nights in her bed. Normally he tossed and turned until he fell into a restless sleep, often waking in the middle of the night, mind racing with thoughts that couldn't be contained. He couldn't remember the last time he had woken up feeling so refreshed. One of the many reasons he was dreading his departure in a few days.

He heard the creaking of the floorboards in the hallway and then she was poking her head in the door with a soft smile.

"Hey you," she said, walking in and closing the door behind her. She was still in her robe but had already done her makeup for the day and Bill's heart jumped. She looked beautiful. She held up a cup of coffee in offering as she walked toward his side of the bed.

"Morning Baby, how's my girl?"

She placed the warm mug in his hands as she leaned down to give him a tender kiss and rumple his hair.

"Better now," she replied, wiping her lipstick from his lips. "I've got to finish getting ready and head in to the office, what are your plans for the day?"

"Chelsea's going to to come with me to run a few errands and then we'll probably hang out here. She's got another date tonight, so I was thinking you and I could have a night out ourselves. How's that sound?"

"Another date? That's what, 3 times this week? Sounds like this boy is sticking around."

Bill chuckled. "She promised she'd bring him by tonight to meet us. And I promised you wouldn't humiliate her," he said with a wry smile. 

Hillary feigned surprise. "Me? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'll be on my best behavior, as always!" she laughed.

"Mmm hmmm, I see that gleam in your eye Hill," he warned. 

"Nonsense. Now, about us. I like the sound of a night out with you. What did you have in mind?" 

"Why don't you leave it to me? Be dressed by 6:45, nothing too casual. I'll take care of the rest." He gave her a wink.

"You've got a date!"

She bent down for another kiss and then walked to the closet to pick out her clothes. It occurred to Bill how normal it all seemed, being there with her and his daughter while they went about their everyday tasks. He longed for it to continue, but knew the time was coming when he'd have to be away from her, from Chelsea, and he already felt bereft.

Hillary found what she wanted and headed for the bathroom, untying her silk robe so it flowed out behind her as she walked. She slipped it off her shoulders and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, leaving her in her panties and camisole. Bill could barely see her from his spot on the bed so he got up and stood in the doorway watching her as she started to get dressed. She must have felt his eyes on her because she stopped and looked up at him.

"What?" she asked uneasily.

"You're gorgeous, that's what. I just like looking at you."

She gave a self conscious chuckle. "Ok...," she said skeptically. 

He went to stand behind her and held her shoulders as they faced the mirror. 

"Look at yourself," he demanded gently. He started from the top. "I could run my fingers through this hair all day." He did so for emphasis. "Blue eyes I get lost in, fair skin, adorable little freckles." He brushed his fingers over her cheek and she closed her eyes and smiled at his touch. "That smile, my God, it lights up a room. And those shoulders that shake when you laugh, I absolutely adore that." She kept her eyes closed and let his words wash over her as he wrapped his arms around her and brought his hands up to lightly cup her breasts. She leaned her head back against the planes of his chest and opened her hooded eyes to get a glimpse of them in the mirror. "So perfect," he whispered as he drew his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting a low moan. But he didn't stay there. Down, down her sides his hands journeyed, to the roundness of her hips and then inward to rest between her parted thighs. "Being here," he began as he moulded her flesh, "Is like being home. Soft and sweet and made for me. My Hillary," he choked.

Their eyes met in the mirror and Hillary couldn't stem the flow of tears his words had elicited. She didn't deserve them, she knew, but she believed he meant them. She turned around and kissed him then, trying to suffuse her love for him, but more so her gratitude that they were finally getting a chance at real happiness.

"You're making it very difficult to leave you this morning," she said into his bare shoulder. 

"Now you're catching on to my master plan," he said, chest trembling with merriment.

She kissed his jaw and pulled away. "Ok, stop distracting me with all of your sweet talk. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can be back."

He held his hands up in surrender. "All right Baby, I'm going downstairs."

*****  
"Ok Chels, I'm looking for your honest opinions here," Bill said as they opened the door to the small jewelry shop. "I've got one chance to do this right so let's pick a good one!"

"Ok, first, do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

Bill gave a sheepish smile, which earned him an exasperated sigh from his daughter.

"Let's start with something simple. Do you want the diamond to be round, oval, diamond shaped, square, rectangular??" She was trying to make it as easy on him as possible.

"Rectangular, I think," he said. 

"Ok, let's start there." She called the jeweler over and introduced herself.

"This is my dad, and he's looking for an engagement ring for my mom," she said, realizing how strange that sounded even to her own ears. The jeweler looked a little bewildered but took it in stride.

"What do you have in an emerald cut?" she asked. Bill was impressed. Either she'd done her homework or these kinds of things were just common knowledge and he'd clearly missed the memo.

The young man showed them over to a case containing several rings of different shapes and sizes. 

Chelsea pointed out a couple that she liked, but nothing really captured Bill's attention. He was about to suggest they go look elsewhere when the gentleman spoke.

"I have one more you might be interested in. It was designed by the owner himself, he just finished it and we haven't put it on display yet. Hold on a minute while I see if it's available to show you."

He came back a moment later opening the velvet box to reveal the most gorgeous ring they had looked at thus far. Bill loved it. Chelsea sucked in a breath. It was perfect. Large emerald cut, tapered baguettes on the side and a thin platinum band, it was definitely something he could imagine on her finger.

"What do you think, Honey?" he asked.

"Holy crap if she doesn't say yes to you when you give her THAT, she's crazy," was her response. 

"I think we have a winner," Bill said. 

The ring was a half size bigger than the one of Hillary's that Chelsea had brought as a guide, so he set an appointment to come back the following day with Hillary to get it sized accordingly, providing she said yes, that was.

Once that was done, they went to the restaurant where Bill made reservations for him and Hillary for that evening and then they stopped at a store where Chelsea insisted on going in by herself to get things to set up their back patio for later. She said she wanted both him and Hillary to be surprised, so he indulged her, handing her a wad of cash and sending her on her way. She came out about 20 minutes later and hopped into the back of the black sedan with arms of full of shopping bags.

"No peeking," she admonished.

By the time they got home, the midday sun was already starting to drop, he knew Hillary would be home soon so he decided to take a shower and start getting ready for dinner. Chelsea set about her task in back with strict instructions to stay away until they got home from their date.

All there was to do now was wait.

****  
Bill was so fucking nervous. His palms were sweaty, he was fidgety and his knees were weak and they hadn't even left the house yet. It was going to be a long evening. 

Hillary had come downstairs about 10 minutes earlier and she looked terrific. She wore a cornflower blue wrap dress that brought out her eyes and she had paired it with tan kitten heels. Her makeup was soft, light on the eyes except for black liner and lashes, dark rose stained lips. Hair coiffed into a silky rounded bob. A delicate diamond pendant hung from her neck and matching diamonds adorned her ears. She had smiled and straightened his tie with a kiss before joining Chelsea in the kitchen while they waited for James to get there. 

He paced back and forth in the foyer, obsessively patting his jacket pocket where the little velvet box was resting safely. What should he say? How should he do it? Did he get on one knee? Jesus he was 52 years old and a Governor who was lauded in his state for being a pretty fine orator, surely he could think of a clever way to ask for a woman's hand in marriage. 

He was working himself up into a fret when came the knock at the screen door. 

"Chels," he yelled. "Your friend is here!" 

He opened the door as Hillary and Chelsea came out of the kitchen. 

"Come in. You must be James. Bill Clinton," he said, extending his hand to shake the boy's.

"Hi Governor, sir, nice to meet you," said James. The kid looked about as nervous as Bill felt.

"Please, just Bill," he said. "This is my...um..Chelsea's mom, Hillary."

Hillary smiled warmly and also extended a hand. "Hello James."

"Ma'am," he replied.

"It's ok, you can call me Hillary." James nodded. Chelsea practically had one foot out the door.

"Mom, Bill, I know you have reservations, you should probably get going," she said with a glance to the hall clock. 6:45. Their reservation was at 7 so they did need to be on their way.

"You're right Baby," Hillary said. "It's such a shame too, I was so hoping to get a chance to spend some time with James. I even pulled out that videotape from the time you were a frog in the 5th Grade pageant, I thought he might like to see what happened when you f-" 

Chelsea cut her off with a glare. "Mother," she warned. 

Hillary smiled sweetly. Bill covered his mouth with his hand to conceal his grin.

"Another time perhaps. Anyway James, it was great to meet you. You're welcome anytime. When there's an adult home, of course, and in designated areas only." She winked. Chelsea groaned.

Hillary pulled Chelsea into a hug and whispered "He's cute," just loud enough for everyone to hear, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. Chelsea's face was scarlet, but she managed a weak smile. James, for his part, seemed to find the whole situation entirely amusing, as he'd had a grin plastered on his face almost since he stepped through the door.

"Come on Bill Honey, time to go," she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door.

"We'd better go too if we want to make the movie," said James. 

Everyone filed out the door and to respective vehicles.  
*****  
A beautiful disaster. And Bill was watching it unfold as if in slow motion.

They had gotten to the restaurant on time and were seated at a quaint table for two nestled in the back. Wine was flowing, salads were served, and Bill's nerves were finally beginning to ease after hours of feeling like a herd of elephants was stampeding through his abdomen. 

They were both in great spirits, the conversation was steady and pleasant, and Hillary was shamelessly rubbing her bare foot up and down his calf under the table. Bill couldn't have imagined things going better, then he reached across the table to take her hand and there went the entire contents of her wine glass (red, naturally) into her lap. She sat there stunned for a moment, until she saw the look of shock and dismay on Bill's face, then she jolted into action.

"It's fine Honey, it was an accident," she said, obviously trying to appease some of the utter foolishness he was feeling.

"Shit Hill, I'm so sorry!" He dipped his napkin into one of the water glasses and came around to try to wipe up some of the mess on her dress, but it was useless. 

"Bill, relax!" she laughed. "It's not a big deal. Although I think we might want to take our leave, I'm drenched." 

Bill groaned. What a goddamned nightmare.

"Of course Baby, let's get you out of here." He shucked his jacket and helped her slip her arms into it so she could wrap it around the wet red stain on the front of her dress. Bill tossed a $50 on the table and then took her by the elbow and led her out the door. 

He was crestfallen. "I'm so sorry Hillary," he kept saying. She truly didn't understand the gravity of the situation - to her it was just a thwarted dinner, not the ruination of his entire grand plan. He took a breath. He could still salvage it, he thought. Just get her home and changed. They could order takeout for all he cared, and they could be in their pajamas, he just needed to get her out to the patio so he could pop the question. 

They got into the back of the sedan and he tucked her into him because by now she was shivering in the cool night air. She was attempting to pull his jacket tighter around her when he saw a pained look cross her face.

"There's something digging into my ribs," she said as she delved her hand into the inside pocket and her fingers brushed up against what was hidden there. OH SHIT. He had totally forgotten.

"What's this?" she asked with all the curiosity of a child. She pulled the box out and her eyes got wide, and Bill's face paled for a second as he stared at the box that contained the key to his future. His and hers. She, who was now staring at him expectantly waiting for his mouth to start working. Fuck it.

"This is not how this was supposed to happen," he chuckled. "But, like everything that has happened in our lives over the last week, I should have expected the unexpected."  
He took the box from her hand and it began to creak open when reality must have dawned on her.

"Oh my God," she whispered. 

"Hillary Diane Rodham," he began.

"Oh my God," she repeated, reaching for the box. He batted her hand away.

"Will you hush so I can say this please?" She nodded, eyes already beginning to fill with unshed tears.

He began again. "Hillary Diane Rodham, I have known you for over 20 years, and I have held you in my heart for almost that long. I'm not sure why the fates have seen fit to bring us back into each other's lives, but who am I to tempt them? Baby, would you please PLEASE do me the honor of marrying me?" 

He finally opened the box and took the ring out, reaching for her left hand in the darkness of the car, which had now stopped in front of Hillary's house.

"Ok, you can say something now," he teased. "Preferably yes, so I can slip this ring on your finger."

"Yes," she choked, unable to manage anything more articulate.

"Yeah? Really?" 

She nodded vigorously and held out her hand, desperately trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Yes, of course I'll marry you. This is crazy and terrifying and I have no idea how any of it is going to work, but I want to figure it out together. I love you."

He slid the ring over her knuckle and down her slender finger and it was as if something clicked into place. Another piece of the puzzle started long ago, now finally coming to completion. She stared at it for a moment, glistening in the low light of the car, then flung herself into his arms.

"I love you so much," she breathed into his neck. Licking, nipping and tasting the skin there and up his jaw until she reached his mouth, then sucking his bottom lip between hers before devouring him in a languid kiss.

Bill realized, as he took her face gently between his palms, that his proposal had been apropos of their relationship; messy and unexpected but so very "them". 

Tbc...


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5, evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on something more angsty for the next chapter at least so in the meantime, here's some more fluff.

They finally made it into the house and Hillary immediately changed out of her wet clothes and into her pajamas while Bill made the call for pizza delivery. He went upstairs to change while she waited, and then they retired, pizza and beer in hand, to the patio to finish the dinner that had been derailed earlier.

Hillary's heart warmed as they opened the back door. Strands of white lights were wrapped around the beams and latticework of the patio, creating a starry effect, and someone had lit the fire in the small stone fire pit, which gave off warmth despite the nighttime chill. Flameless candles were placed haphazardly, infusing the perfect amount of light under the covered porch to see by. Someone had obviously been trying to set the scene. Hillary put down the pizza box on the ottoman and took a look around.

"Did you do this?" 

Bill smiled. "Nope, this was all Chelsea. She wouldn't even let me back here. Looks incredible, doesn't it?"

Oh, their tender-hearted girl. "So, she was in on the plan then, I take it?" 

"Oh yeah, she was my right hand woman. First, gave me her blessing and helped me pick out the ring, then came back here and set this all up. She's quite a kid."

He continued, "And, if you hadn't foiled my plans for the second time this week, I'd have been proposing to you out here under the twinkling lights instead of in the back of a car!" 

Hillary giggled. "Awwww, Sweetheart, I'm sorry," she said as she looped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "If it makes you feel any better, it was absolutely the most romantic proposal I've ever gotten in the back of a car." Bill threw his head back and laughed.

"I feel a ton better now," he replied. "Besides, you said yes, so I must have done something right!"

She plopped down on the sectional, flipping the pizza box open with a flourish then serving a slice to Bill, who had sat down beside her with his feet up on the chaise. 

"You are full of brilliant ideas tonight Honey," said Hillary as she deposited her pizza crust on Bill's plate a few moments later. She looked down at the new bauble on her left hand and smiled. 

"First this," she held up her hand and flashed the ring in his direction. "Then pizza and beer in our pajamas? A girl could really get used to this."

She held up her beer bottle in toast. "What shall we drink to?" she asked.

He thought for a moment and then said, "To the long and winding road that lead us here."

She smiled a watery smile and clinked his bottle before taking a long sip of her beer.

"Drink up, Chelsea instructed me to get you tipsy."

Hillary snickered. "Chelsea thinks I'm the best mom ever when I'm drunk, judging by the one time she's ever seen me that way. She still talks about it to this day, and that was 5 years ago!"

"This I've got to hear," he said. 

She sighed. "It was New Year's Eve and Jeff and I had gone to a party and returned shortly after midnight, surprised to find she had waited up. Well, I was quite happy on champagne, and quite excited to see her little face and immediately insisted we put on "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road", where I proceeded to make her sing and dance with me through all the songs, fast and slow, until we were out of breath and doubled over laughing. That lead me to a drunken dissertation on how nothing would ever be better than that era of music, which ended with me forking over my credit card so Chelsea could order the "Sounds of the Seventies" collection from some TV infomercial."

"Wow, you DO sound like the best mom ever!" he laughed. "I suppose she thought if I plied you with wine, you couldn't turn me down."

She straddled his lap where he sat, legs out on the chaise, and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, fingers caressing the nape.

"Oh no, I want to be Mrs. William Jefferson Clinton," she drawled. "I know we have so many things to discuss and plans to make but right now I don't want to think about that." 

She untied her robe and let it slide off her shoulders, revealing a chemise of deep blue chiffon. Thin spaghetti straps lead to lace trimmed cups which encased cleavage to die for. The body of the gown was ethereal, and Bill could tell just by looking that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. 

"Mmmmmmmm, mmmmm," was his reaction.

"You like?" 

"I love," he said as he hooked a finger under one of the straps.

"I gave Chelsea an extra hour on her curfew, what do you say I show you how much I appreciate what you're wearing right now?"

Hillary laughed. "I gave her an extra two hours, so yes please!"

She lifted up so that Bill could quickly shed his pants and underwear, then straddled him again, this time without the impediment of his clothing. He moaned at the contact and attempted to touch her but she stilled his hands.

"Shhhhh," she said. "Don't move, don't talk, just feel."

She sank down onto him then, already hard, and let out a soft breath through her nose to steady herself. Bill closed his eyes as he slid into her tight heat, but she leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Look at me."

His eyes drilled into her as she began to move slowly, agonizingly slowly, up and down his length, and he let his hands rest on her hips to gently guide her movements. Her gaze was wide and intensely focused on his. Their breathing was even but steadily growing more rapid as the passion increased. 

They didn't kiss or touch one another other than the curve of Hillary's body against him as she continued to move, and the joining of their lower bodies. She turned his head slightly so his ear was directly at her lips. "Feels so good doesn't it?" her hot breath sending shivers through him. He nodded and began to lean his head back, breaking eye contact but she tipped his chin to her. "Look at me Bill," she pleaded. Then she shifted ever so slightly so her clit ground against him every time she rolled her hips. She bit her lip and her breath became shaky but she never stopped staring at him, ratcheting up the intensity to epic proportions. 

Breathing escalating, nostrils flaring, her movements increased in pace and pleasure. Sweat was beading on Bill's forehead and upper lip from the effort of remaining silent and she caressed him with her fingertips as she shifted her hips sharply and ground down. An almost imperceptible whimper escaped Bill's lips as his hard cock blunted against her. So deep. She smiled and blew out a breath. 

The pace became more frantic, both panting now, trembling puffs of air escaping parted lips. Their eyes were hooded, it was taking a conscious effort to stay focused on one another as the all-encompassing sensations rocked their sweat-slicked bodies.

Thighs quivering, she whispered a final, "I love you. I love you so fucking much," hovering over his lips and as she began to come, she finally kissed him hard and deep on the mouth. Bill anchored his hands in her hair and bit down on her lip as her shuddering orgasm triggered his own and the rhythmic contracting of her inner muscles milked him dry.

Hillary collapsed against him with a sigh, still joined, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I don't want to be away from you," she murmured into his skin. Bill stroked her back lightly.

"I know Baby, me either. We'll make it work, we have to."

"I'm afraid," she admitted. 

"Of what?"

"That it'll end badly, like before. You're not even gone yet and I already miss you."

"You just have to hold out until January Honey, and then my tenure as Governor is over. I'll do whatever you want after that. If you want me here, I'm here. If you want to move to Timbuktu, I'll do it. We can make it work for a few more months, don't you agree?

Hillary nodded. 7 more months. How hard could it be?

tbc...


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days 7 & 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, and angsty.

It was by sheer but happy coincidence that Bill's last full day in Menlo Park fell on Father's Day, his first. Chelsea, wanting to make it a special day for him for both reasons, had asked Hillary in advance to help her prepare breakfast, which meant they had to get up pretty early to beat him awake.

They met, bleary eyed, in the kitchen at 6am sharp, Hillary giving her daughter a silent kiss on the forehead as she made a beeline for the coffee maker. Once the first few sips of the rich brew had gotten her blood pumping, she was ready to get to work.

"Ok Sweetheart, what's on the menu?" she asked. 

"I bought the ingredients for your eggs Benedict, I was hoping you'd help me make them. Or should I say, I was hoping you'd make them while I watched," she giggled. 

Hillary rolled her eyes but smiled. 

"Wow, going all out! Good idea Baby. He deserves it."

They laid out all the ingredients on the counter and got to work. Hillary turned on the gas burner halfway and pulled a small saucepan down from the rack. "Hand me the butter, Chels, about a stick and a half."

Chelsea got out the blender while her mother stirred the melting butter, first thing up was the sauce and Hillary always had to concentrate to get it right. Chelsea cracked the eggs and added them and the water to the blender, then turned on the machine while Hillary slowly poured the hot, melted butter in bit by bit. Lemon juice, cayenne, salt and pepper to taste and within 10 minutes they had created a decent hollandaise. 

That set aside, another pot was filled, another burner lit to start the poached eggs.

"Mama?" Chelsea asked as they waited for the water to simmer.

"Hmmm?" 

"I was thinking of asking Bill if I can call him Dad. Would that be weird?"

Hillary smiled. "He is your dad Baby, I can't think of a better gift to give him on Father's Day. I'm sure he'll be so touched." 

She swirled the water around and broke the first egg in, watching the mini whirlpool envelop it. She decided to do each one separately since they had the time, and it would give her and Chelsea a chance to talk while they waited.

"So Chels, I know this has been a crazy week, how are you feeling about everything that's been happening? I mean with you and your dad, with me and your dad, with him leaving tomorrow. You doing ok?"

Chelsea grinned, but there was something unidentifiable behind her eyes. 

"I'm really happy Bill came into our lives," she began. 

"I am too, Baby."

"I see you're wearing the ring, so I guess that means you said yes!" 

"I did. We'll have to tell you the story later. Beautiful job on the patio by the way. We both loved it!" 

"I'm just glad you're going for it," Chelsea said.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I wasn't sure to be honest. You're not usually one to rush into anything. Remember how long it took you to agree to let Jeff move in?"

Hillary sighed as she took the first egg out of the water and set it on the towel, then repeated the swirling motion with the next. Chelsea was right, this impulsivity wasn't something she normally demonstrated, and definitely not when it came to matters of the heart.

"What Bill..your dad and I have is obviously complicated, but I feel like we're finishing something that was started 20 years ago, that's why I guess it was so easy for me to love him when he came back. It's hard to articulate, but it feels right. Does that make sense?"

Chelsea nodded. "I get it," she began. "I just hope you're both thinking things through. This is your second chance, don't screw it up," she said wryly.

"You're wise beyond your years Baby girl," Hillary quipped as she took the second egg out of the simmering water. "It's been a whirlwind, and I've been swept off my feet by it, I admit. And you're right, we need to start using our heads, making plans. A lot of that will have to happen long distance I'm afraid, but it will work out. I believe that."

Chelsea smiled warmly. She really had never seen her mother so happy, and it did her heart good to know that when she left home at the end of the summer, Hillary would be preparing for a new chapter in her life, with her dad. 

Methodically they continued to work until all parts were cooked, then Chelsea helped to assemble and spoon the sauce on, finishing with the requisite chives and dill, and then put the little stacks on a plate and the plate on a tray to bring upstairs to Bill, along with fresh fruit, coffee and orange juice. 

She left the room for a minute to get something out of her purse, returning with a card and a large manilla envelope, which she tucked under her arm. 

"What's that?" Hillary asked with curiosity.

"You'll find out in a few minutes," Chelsea replied.

They stopped outside Hillary's closed bedroom door.

"Let me go wake him up," she said.

Chelsea giggled. "Yeah, make sure he's got pants on!" 

Hillary gave an exasperated laugh. "You just stay here," she warned, slipping through the door.

Bill was awake and sitting up when she came in and he greeted her with a bright smile.

"Where have you been Baby, I don't like waking up alone," he pouted. 

She bent down to give him a kiss and he pulled her to him then quickly rolled on top of her. Hillary stifled a yelp and put her hands on his chest to stop him before he got carried away.

"Shhhh," she giggled. "Chelsea is right outside the door. Behave yourself!"

"Yes, Chelsea IS right outside the door and she can hear you!" they heard her say.

"All right," Bill grumbled jokingly. 

Confirming that he did indeed have his pajama bottoms on, Hillary called, "Come in Chels!"

Chelsea poked her head through and rolled her eyes when she saw her parents tangled up in bed. They pulled apart and sat next to one another against the headboard while Chelsea came over and placed the tray of food in front of Bill.

"Wow, this looks terrific Honey! What's the occasion?" he asked, taking a sip of orange juice.

Chelsea sat down beside him and he scooted over to make room for her. "It's your last day here, and it also happens to be Father's Day," she said sweetly. 

Bill's eyes softened. He hadn't even realized, but the fact that his daughter had, touched his heart. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Happy Father's Day," she said, handing him a card. "Why don't you eat first, then you can open it. Mom slaved away at your breakfast, I wouldn't want it to be spoiled!"

He smiled and turned to Hillary. "Looks delicious Baby," he said, giving her a peck on the lips.

"Chelsea was the planner, I was executor," she said with a grin. "Now eat up!" 

*****  
Bill finished up his meal and patted his stomach for emphasis. "Great work ladies!" he said. "I'm really going to miss all this delicious cooking!"

He handed the tray to Hillary and reached for the card Chelsea had given him earlier. "Shall I open this?" he asked. She nodded. 

He read silently then bowed his head and put his fist to his mouth, obviously overcome. He cleared his throat twice before attempting to speak. "Thank you," he croaked. 

Chelsea's eyes filled with tears. "What do you think?" she asked of some unspoken question that must have been written in the card she had given him.

"Of course you can call me Dad, Honey. Nothing would make me happier." He pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her curly head. 

"I have something else for you," she said, producing the large manila envelope from earlier. "I've had mom's partner start to draw up an adoption agreement, he just needs a couple of details from you, and then if it's something you want, we can file the petition. No pressure or anything, I just thought with you and Mom getting together, it would make things more complete. You can think about it, I don't want you to feel like you have to, just-"

Bill put up a hand to stop her from rambling. "Chels. Of course...Of course this is what I want! I-" he choked on a sob. "I'm sorry, I...wasn't expecting something like this. But I'm ecstatic." 

Hillary watched the scene unfold with tears in her eyes. She had had no idea that Chelsea had spoken to Douglas, but leave it to her daughter to do something so heartfelt. Their family really was coming together and everything felt so right.

*****  
They spent the morning touring the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford, at Bill's request, then enjoyed a leisurely lunch in old town Palo Alto, after which Chelsea had asked permission to spend some time with her best friend Rachel. It seemed the girl that been feeling quite neglected of late, with Chelsea spending so much of her time with James. 

Hillary and Bill ate a quiet dinner at home, simply enjoying their last night together before Bill had to depart early Monday morning. She cleared away the dishes while Bill went to take a shower so he wouldn't have to do it the next morning. 

When he didn't come back downstairs after forty five minutes, Hillary made her way upstairs to check on him. She found him throwing items into his suitcase, seemingly upset.

"What's going on?" she asked trepidatiously. 

Bill stormed over to the dresser where he had placed the contents of the envelope Chelsea had given him earlier. He picked up a paper from the top of the stack and handed it to her.

"I found this with the adoption paperwork," he said tightly. It was Chelsea's Official Record of Birth.

"Chelsea's birth certificate? I don't understand," she said.

"Father's name Unknown," he spat.

Hillary closed her eyes and let out a breath.

"Couldn't you even give me the fucking courtesy of existing on paper?" he asked.

She didn't say anything for a moment as he stared pointedly at her. "I couldn't bear to put your name there," she whispered.

Bill slammed his hand into the doorframe of the bathroom. "You're a goddamned family attorney Hillary! You know all too well, I'm sure, that by omitting a father from a birth record, it grants them ZERO legal rights to that child!"

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" she cried. "I wasn't thinking about any of that when I did it, I just-"

"Not good enough!" he shouted. "You should have fucking tried harder to tell me! I deserved to be told!" He was pacing now.

"NO!" she screamed. "YOU left me, remember? You fucked me over for political gain. If you had given a shit about anything you would have fought for me! Fought for us!"

His voice got dangerously low. "I've got news for you, Hillary. I did come after you. 2 months after you threw me out, I was miserable and about to marry a woman I didn't love. I snuck up to DC to beg you to take me back but guess what? You were gone. Vanished! I tried Betsy. I even called your father and pleaded with him to tell me where you were. The only thing I heard was that you were fine and you didn't want to see me again. Hugh told me to leave you alone. Said he'd make trouble for me if I didn't."

"I had no idea," she murmured. "No one ever told me anything, honestly."

"It doesn't matter. I am just amazed by the level of callousness in that one decision. The breadth of it is stunning, and maybe I'm finally realizing how devastated I am by missing out on my daughter's entire life. It's like a giant gaping hole in my heart," he sobbed.

"I'm sorry Bill," she whispered.

"Missing Chelsea's childhood will never be ok with me, Hillary. And I need some time to work through it. On my own."

Hillary was crying openly now, breaths hitching as she tried to get herself under control.

"What about us? The engagement?" she stammered. Her neat new world was crumbling before her eyes and she felt powerless to stop it.

His eyes softened for a fraction of a second and he looked at her. "I love you. That hasn't changed. That won't change. I can love you but still hate what you did. Those two emotions can coexist. But you've got to give me a little time to grieve. I deserve that."

She nodded, tears dripping down her face and onto her shirt unchecked. "How much time?" 

"I don't know," he said honestly.

*****  
He slept in her bed that night but there might as well have been a million miles between them. They didn't touch. Neither slept. Bill could feel the silent sobs racking her, hear her sniffling. He reached out to touch her a few times but drew his hand back. It was too raw, his pain. He wasn't even sure why seeing that entry on the birth certificate had triggered such a response, but once those feelings had come to the fore, he needed to deal with them. And he needed to do it without her, so that he could come back to her without a veil of resentment shrouding their entire relationship. 

Morning finally broke and he felt her arms wrap around him from behind. Felt her bury her face in his back and let out a shuddering breath. 

"Please don't leave like this," she whispered.

He squeezed her hands but pulled away and stood up. "I've got to. I've got to get back," he said with his back to her, then walked over to his suitcase to finish packing.

She silently walked into the bathroom, hoping a shower would help her compose herself for Chelsea's sake. 

When she finally made it downstairs, he was sharing breakfast with Chelsea. She felt awkward and unwanted, and she bit her lip to stop fresh tears from starting. Chelsea immediately sensed the tension.

"Mom, you ok?" she asked with concern.

"Fine Baby," she replied stoically. They didn't look at each other as Hillary fixed herself a cup of coffee. Bill ate a bowl of cereal in silence. 

"We should get going if we're going to get to the airport on time," Chelsea said.

In that moment, Hillary made a decision. "You take the car, Chels. You can drive your dad and his team can follow. That'll give you a chance to say goodbye, just the two of you."

Chelsea was obviously confused. "What about you, don't you want to see him off?" she asked incredulously.

"We've said our goodbyes Baby. It's fine. You go on. Just give us a minute, ok?"

"Ok Mama. Dad, I'll be in the car," Chelsea said, leaving the two alone again.

Hillary took a shuddering breath. "Please Bill, don't do this," she begged.

"I'll call you in a few days," he said softly.

She held out her hand, palm up, revealing the engagement ring. "What about this? Do you want it back?" she choked, eyes filling with tears again.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and soft, her tears wetting his face.

"Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. I love you. Just give me time."

He closed her hand around the ring and kissed her once more on the cheek. "Goodbye Hillary," he said and walked out without looking back. Her sob was the last thing he heard as the screen door slammed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Nessuno, who made me see things from Bill's point of view, which was very difficult for me. I hope I've taken a step in the right direction toward allowing everyone to process the repercussions of their decisions.


	17. Chapter 17

Bill's spicy scent clung to her sheets and pillows and she rolled over and buried her face in one, as if the simple act could draw him closer to her. It had been four days since his departure and though she knew he had spoken to Chelsea, he had still yet to make contact with her. Her hands itched to pick up the phone and call him, beg him to listen to her, even just to hear his breath on the other end of the line, but she was determined to give him the time he had requested. The time she was sure was eroding any possibility of him coming back to her. He had promised his love over and over even despite his anger and disappointment but distance had a way of making it all seem, well...distant.

Chelsea, for her part, had seemed sullen and irritable since he left, but Hillary couldn't draw out of her the reason why. She chalked it up to missing him, to the shift from their whirlwind week into the more mundane day to day that now occupied their lives. She had tried several times to engage or spend time with her, but was shrugged off at every turn. 

All of this left Hillary feeling more isolated and miserable than she thought she'd ever felt. She threw herself into her work during the daylight hours but the nights had her restless and racked with guilt, mind working overtime to try to find a way out of her self-inflicted crisis. Self-reflection had never been a strong suit, usually preferring to commit to a decision and move forward without giving too much thought to the overarching consequences. But in this instance, it was warranted and the more she thought about her life decisions, the more she realized the far-reaching devastation they'd caused. And she didn't know what to do to make it better, and that was the part that was eating slowly away at her as the days wore on. 

The screen door opening and closing downstairs jolted her out of her thoughts. The thump and the loud whispering she heard next had her out of bed and at the top of the stairs in an instant. It wasn't like Chelsea to be loud when she came home for the night.

Laughter, Chelsea's she could tell, and then the annoyed voice of Rachel, could be heard fairly clearly from all the way upstairs, so Hillary took a moment to listen.

"Shut up Chels, your mom is going to hear you!" Rachel hissed.

"Shhhhhhh!" she heard Chelsea say, followed by more laughter. Something wasn't right.

She got to the bottom of the stairs to find Rachel holding up her daughter, who was swaying perilously against her, a goofy grin on her face.

"Hi ladies," Hillary said warily. Rachel gave her a helpless look as Chelsea stumbled toward her mother, arms outstretched.

"Uh oh, I think she heard us!" she whispered too loudly. Hillary immediately smelled the alcohol emanating from her.

"Jesus, what did she drink?" she asked Rachel, who was now standing there like a deer in headlights. 

Rachel's words tumbled out of her in a rush. "I don't know, I wasn't with her I swear. I left her with James while I was talking to some friends, I-"

Chelsea scoffed. "Thanks a lot," she slurred. "Also, I'm right here, if you want to know what I had, just ask me."

Hillary looked at her pointedly. "Well?"

Chelsea attempted to stand on her own but had to hold out her hands to balance herself. She thought for a minute. "Well...first," she began, using her thumb to count. "There was some red stuff in a cup." She held up her pointer finger next to her thumb. "Then I had a bottle of beer." She made a face indicating her distaste for that particular beverage, then held up her third finger. "Ooooh and then there were those two shots of that cinnamon stuff. Mmmmm," she said, licking her lips.

Hillary rolled her eyes. "Shit," she muttered. 

"Language!" Chelsea said sternly, then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"You. Sit," Hillary commanded as she sat Chelsea unceremoniously on the bottom step.

"You," she pointed at Rachel. "Did you have anything to drink?" Rachel shook her head. "Ok, you go on home then, I don't want your mother to worry about you. Thanks for taking care of her Rach, you're a good friend."

Rachel stood frozen for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to do. 

"Go on Sweetie, it's fine," Hillary assured her. Rachel looked around her to Chelsea, who sat leaning up against the banister.

"Later Chels," she said as she backed out the door.

"Bye bye Rachie," Chelsea murmured.

"Time for bed Chelsea," Hillary said sternly when the door had closed and she saw Rachel's tail lights disappear down the driveway. The truth was, she was at a total loss as to how to handle a drunken eighteen year old. She'd heard horror stories from other parents about nightmarish teenaged years, but she had yet to experience it first hand. It looked like she was about to get a crash course.

Chelsea puffed up her chest and did her best Hillary impression. "Time for bed Chelsea," she repeated, reaching for the banister as she stood. She even gave a mock salute. Hillary rolled her eyes again. She had a feeling she was in for a long night.

Trying to maneuver an inebriated teenager up a flight of stairs proved to be a challenge and when they finally made it to the top, Hillary was out of breath. She pulled Chelsea in the direction of her room.

"Come on, you're bunking with me tonight," she said with an air of irritation.

Chelsea squealed. "Ooooh, slumber party!"

"Hardly," Hillary grumbled. 

Hillary had to herd her staggering daughter down the hall, which was another five minute endeavor, what with Chelsea stopping to feel the fascinating texture of the wallpaper and run her hand over the chair rail, then giggling.

When they finally, blessedly made it to Hillary's room, Chelsea stumbled over herself and ended up in a laughing heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. Hillary put her hands on her hips and looked down at her daughter, anger and exasperation giving way to a sense of quiet defeat. 

"What on earth were you thinking Chels?" 

Chelsea gave an exaggerated shrug. "Geez, I was just having fun. Just because you're miserable because you screwed things up with Bill...I mean Dad, doesn't mean we all have to be." 

Hillary blanched. Had Bill said something to her? Or had Chelsea drawn her own conclusions based on the air of sadness that had fallen over the house in Bill's absence? Now probably wasn't the best time to ask.

Chelsea continued, "Or maybe I was trying to forget how you lied to me my whole life because you were a coward," she spat. 

Hillary gasped. "If you felt that way, you could have come to me Baby, we could have talked about it-"

"NO!" Chelsea yelled. "I couldn't. And besides, you would have just told me the same bullshit story about how you were protecting me and blah, blah, blah. I don't want to hear that anymore." Chelsea stared through her.

Hillary threw up her hands. She knew arguing with Chelsea in this state was futile, but her defenses were up.

"What is it you want to hear Chelsea because honestly, I'm at a loss."

Chelsea used the foot board to pull herself up and stand toe to toe with her mother.

"How about the truth? That you did it because you were bitter and selfish? Not because you gave a shit about me." 

"Chelsea Victoria!" Hillary shouted, aghast.

"What's the matter Mom, did I hit a nerve?" she slurred.

Hillary's voice wavered. "I...know I handled everything wrong...I'm sorry. But you are...you always have been the most important person in my life...and I thought I was doing the right thing."

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "Maybe that was true in the beginning. But admit it, after time went on, you could have told me. You could have told my father. You made the choice day after day, year after year, to keep lying. That's what I don't get. THAT'S what hurts," she said, voice breaking.

Tears sprang to Hillary's eyes at her daughter's obvious pain. How long had she been wanting to say these things to her? How much had it been eating at the poor sweet girl who would never consciously hurt a soul? Her breath caught. She had absolutely no idea how to fix it, how to make her hurt go away.

"What do you want me to do?" she pleaded. 

Chelsea screwed up her face to try to stop the tears from falling. "Own it," she whispered. "Stop trying to make what you did okay because it never will be."

Hillary nodded, not trusting her voice. Chelsea was right. She couldn't go back and change the past, but she could stop trying to justify it. Maybe that's what everyone needed from her in order to move forward. Like Bill had said, they could love her but hate what she had done. 

Chelsea was staring at her unsteadily, waiting for her to say something. 

"You're right," she said dejectedly. "I was heartbroken and angry at Bill and I never wanted to see him again. And after a time those feelings diminished, but by then I was afraid. Afraid of confusing you, afraid you'd hate me. Afraid of confronting your dad. Terrified that he'd try to take you away from me if he found out about you." 

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. "You and your father deserved better. I'm so, so sorry. I don't know how else to make it better."

Chelsea fell into her mother and buried her head in her shoulder with a cry and Hillary wrapped her tightly in an embrace. "There's nothing that'll make it better," Chelsea whispered. "But knowing that you know that is a good start."

They swayed back and forth in the silence of the bedroom, and although Hillary wasn't sure how much of the conversation Chelsea would remember in the morning, she was grateful they had had it. She would make sure to talk to her again when she sobered up.

"Let's get you into bed Chels," she said with a pat to the girl's back.

"Am I going to be in trouble tomorrow?" she murmured into Hillary's neck.

"Oh absolutely," Hillary answered. "You're going to be hurting in more ways than one."

Chelsea scoffed. "Isn't getting drunk like a teenage right of passage or something?"

"Not in this house," Hillary replied, laying her daughter down on the bed and slipping her shoes off. Chelsea got under the covers and snuggled in.

A few minutes later Hillary pressed two Tylenol into the girl's palm and handed her a glass of water. "Take these, you're going to need them," she said. Chelsea did as instructed then laid back down, drained from their heavy conversation and the lingering effects of the alcohol.

Hillary climbed into bed on the other side and Chelsea rolled over to face her.

"Mama?"

"Hmmm?"

"You need to fix things with Dad. I don't know what happened but please," she said drowsily.

"I know Sweetheart, I'm just trying to give him some space. It's what he asked for."

Chelsea sighed. "You don't know men at all. He wants you to go after him. Do it."

Hillary chuckled. "Yeah? And you're an expert on men now?"

Chelsea's eyes were fluttering closed. "I let James get to second base tonight," she slurred. "Under the shirt and everything."

Jesus. Hillary let out a breath. There was another conversation they'd be having in the morning.

Tbc...


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chelsea's morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of filler to keep things moving. I felt their conversation from the previous night needed to be addressed briefly with Chelsea in possession of all of her faculties. Bill will be featured again soon, promise.

The warm snuggly haven enveloping Chelsea quickly disappeared as Hillary unapologetically ripped off the duvet she was sleeping under.

Chelsea jolted awake. Her head felt like someone was pounding a drum inside of it, her mouth like she had licked sandpaper. She was still in her clothes and she was laying face down on her mother's bed. Memories of the night before came flooding back to her and she snapped her eyes shut again to try to avoid the onslaught.

"Ughhhhh," she groaned.

"Good morning Sunshine!" Hillary said brightly. Much too brightly for her daughter's liking.

Chelsea opened one eye. "Hmph." She then proceeded to cover her head with her hands.

"Rise and shine Baby!"

She pushed herself up in the bed and immediately regretted her decision. 

"I know you're getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of this, but I feel awful," she whined.

Hillary sat next to her on the bed with a smile and took her by the chin. 

"I'd say you feeling awful is a pretty good punishment and hopefully a good deterrent ," she said with a pat to Chelsea's cheek. 

"So I'm not in trouble?" the girl asked with a fair amount of skepticism. Hillary shook her head.

"You get one free pass. But if this happens again while you're in this house, I will be anything but generous."

Chelsea nodded.

"Having said that," Hillary continued, "There are a couple of things I think we need to talk about."

Chelsea grimaced. She should have known she wasn't going to escape completely unscathed. 

"What's up?"

"How much do you remember about our conversation last night?"

"Bits and pieces," Chelsea replied. "I'm sorry about the way I spoke to you-"

Hillary put up a hand to stop her. "No, please don't apologize. In fact, I want to thank you Sweetheart. You said some things that were very hard to hear. But I needed to hear them. I needed to understand how this was affecting you. For my part, I have to accept that I've hurt you and Bill and I have to allow you feel that hurt, the anger and the disappointment. I will be here in any way you need me to, just don't shut me out, ok? Honesty from here on out, can we do that?"

"I can do that," said Chelsea.

"Good. Now, since we're being so honest, let's talk about James."

"Oh God," Chelsea groaned again. There was one nugget of information she wished she could forget divulging to her mother. "Mom, it's not a big deal, I'm eighteen years old."

Hillary shrugged nonchalantly. "Did I say anything?"

Chelsea gave her the side-eye. "No, but why do I feel like you're about to?"

"Look, you're old enough to make your own decisions about what you do and with whom you do it. With the notable exception of you showing up on my doorstep plastered ever again. I only ask that you do so safely and with some forethought. You've only been seeing this guy for what, two weeks now?"

"Well how old were you when you first did anything with a guy?" Chelsea asked curiously.

Hillary sighed. "Define 'anything'."

"Sex." There it was, on the table.

"Second year of college, so about nineteen."

"And?" 

"And what?"

"How long were you with him before you did it?"

"We dated on and off for almost a year before we took that step," she said honestly, not entirely comfortable with where the conversation was headed but determined to speak frankly for her daughter's sake.

"A year? Wow Mom, what a prude!"

Hillary gave her an incredulous look. "I went to an all girls college with a strict curfew Dear, there wasn't a whole lot of opportunity to see one another."

"Did you love him?"

Another sigh, this time wistful. "I thought so at the time," she said.

"Do you regret that he was your first?"

"No Baby, I don't. It was right for me at the time and I still think about him fondly so I don't have  
any regrets."

Chelsea seemed to think for a moment. "Hmmm, ok. So what about Dad? How long did the two of you wait?"

"Next question!" Hillary laughed.

"Come on Mom, I thought we were being honest?"

"Seems I'm the one imparting all the honesty here!" she chuckled. "Fine, if you must know, and in the vein of honesty, we slept together on our first date."

Chelsea's mouth fell open in shock. "Oh my God really?" she said in amazement.

"Your father and I," Hillary began, "I've always likened us to fire and gasoline. There's an intensity there that I hadn't felt before and haven't felt since, until now. Besides I was 30 years old, not a young girl. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do. Now, anything else you need to know about my sex life?" she asked jokingly.

Chelsea giggled momentarily but then her face turned serious. "How will I know when it's right for me?" 

Hillary gave a wry smile. "Because it'll be your wedding night?" she teased.

"I'm serious."

"I can't tell you that, Chels. I can tell you though that in my experience, if it's something you worry too much about it can be awkward. It's a personal decision and one that must be mutual and hopefully not taken lightly. But at the same time, it will be infinitely better if it happens naturally and isn't forced. Just keep that in mind if things get more serious with James."

"Thanks, I will," Chelsea promised.

"And also know that there's nothing you can't ask me or talk to me about, and I will be as forthright as possible." 

"I know, I appreciate that," she said. "Thank you for not making it weird."

"Of course Baby."

"Mom?"

"Yes Sweetheart?" 

"I really do think you should go see Dad. You should hear him when I talk to him, he sounds lost and miserable." 

Hillary sighed. "I'm not sure that's a good idea Chelsea. He said he'd call me and he hasn't, maybe he needs more time."

Chelsea was indignant. "He needs YOU. And you need him too. I know how upset you've been since he left. I've heard you up in the middle of the night, not sleeping. Stop being stubborn and go tell him that. Please?"

"I'll think about it Baby, ok? I can't very well just show up pounding on the front door of the Governor's mansion unannounced. They'd have me carted off for sure!" Hillary snickered at the thought.

The girl nodded. "I've got an idea if you're interested..."

Tbc...


	19. Chapter 19

Bill took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Despite going over the same passage of the budget proposal from the Department of Finance and Administration for the last half hour, he still could not wrap his head around what it was saying and he was getting frustrated at his own absentmindedness. He threw down his pen in disgust and stood up. He needed to take a breather, but deep down he knew it would do him little good. What, or rather who, was occupying his mind would not be banished by stepping away from his desk or splashing cold water on his face. She was entrenched there, and the more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more the exact opposite happened. Hillary.

The simple truth was he missed her. Missed waking up next to her in the morning and missed seeing her face before he went to sleep at night. He could still see the look in her eyes as he had walked out the door a week earlier and it haunted him. He had left her. Again. Only this time instead of telling him to go, she had begged him to stay, which only made him feel worse about the state of things. Rationally, he knew he had every right to be angry with her and every reason to want to put some emotional distance between them but after seven days of that, rationality had started to lose the battle and his heart was winning out. He needed her.

The problem was, he had no idea if his exit had done irreparable damage to the relationship and he was beyond terrified to find out. This left him in a state of flux - wanting so badly to reach out to her but afraid of what he'd find if he did. He had tried to put feelers out during his almost daily conversations with Chelsea, but she was tight-lipped about her mother and he didn't want to push. He'd just have to bite the bullet and call her. But not tonight.

He had a jam packed schedule lined up the next day, campaigning for his old friend Blanche Lambert Lincoln who was attempting a political comeback in the Senate race after leaving the House two years earlier to give birth to twins. He'd be doing what he loved best, speaking on behalf of issues he believed in and getting out and meeting the good people of Arkansas at restaurant stops and rope lines, then capping it off with a rally. He was always energized after being on the trail and he thought maybe if he harnessed that energy at the end of the day, he'd be able to gather up the courage to call Hillary and set things back on the right path. 

Yes, tomorrow night, come hell or high water, he'd hear her voice again. He only prayed it wasn't screaming in his ear. 

*****  
The pilot's announcement startled Hillary from her fitful sleep. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Little Rock National Airport. Please make sure one last time your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.”

Her apprehension began anew as she felt the plane descend closer and closer to its destination. To Bill. Chelsea's hair-brained idea had seemed to have merit at first, but the closer she got to executing it, the more she wondered if it was going to blow up in her face. She had never been one to do things on a whim, and certainly showing up unannounced to try to salvage a relationship with a man wasn't among anything she'd ever done before. Perhaps if it were, and she'd attempted it 19 years ago, she wouldn't be in this situation now, stomach twisting in knots and hands clammy at the idea of being outright rejected.

She took a centering breath as she felt the wheels hit the tarmac and continued to inhale and exhale slowly while the plane taxied toward the gate. The time for questioning her decision or even backing out of it had long passed, so she might as well get on with it. But first, she needed a couple of hours of sleep and a hot shower, so she'd make her way to the hotel and steel herself for the day ahead.

*****  
The ballroom was stifling, or maybe it was the occupant of the third seat in the third row who was having trouble controlling her body temperature and her breathing. Hillary's heart was pounding in her ears as the lights dimmed and the announcer's voice came over the loud speaker, muffling everything but the sound of her ragged breathing. She heard his name and then he was there, 25 feet from her on the stage, waving and smiling at the crowd despite the bright stage lights that must have been glaring in his eyes. The people around her hopped to their feet in a rush of applause, but she couldn't seem to get her legs to follow suit so she sat there unmoving, hoping no one would notice how she was glued to her chair.

As the crowd settled back into their seats and Bill began to speak, she focused not on his words - she was too nervous for that - but on the movements of his hands as he spoke. Gentle, rolling movements when his voice was calm and even, sharper, staccato jabs as he hammered home a point or tried to fire up the audience. Watching them instead of his face seemed to have a calming effect on her and she felt her breathing even out, muscles relax, just as he was finishing up his stump speech. She honestly had no idea what he had said up until that point, but then she heard him falter and she looked from his hands to his face. He caught her eye briefly and she knew he had seen her and was now doing a masterful job of covering.

He cleared his throat quickly. "If you want to be Arkansas' advocate, vote for somebody who will fight for you. Vote for Blanche Lincoln!"

The crowd erupted again as he said his thank yous and waved on his way down the steps of the stage, moving toward the people in the front row to shake hands and say hello. He covered the entire first row and then started down the aisle toward the ballroom's exit and suddenly he was in front of her, reaching past the two people next to her to take her hand. 

"Thank you so much for coming," he said coolly, eyes boring into hers as he held on just a fraction too long. She nodded but before she knew what had happened, he'd moved on. She watched him as a small crowd engulfed him and pushed him toward the door.

Hillary stood rooted to her spot, more than a little stunned at what had just transpired. It seemed to her she had her answer. He had walked out of more than her door last week, he'd taken leave of her life, and must have been biding his time until he would tell her. Maybe he had hoped she'd just get the hint herself, the longer he refused to talk to her. 

The devastation hit her like a physical blow and she felt the weight of it settle on her shoulders as she watched the remainder of the audience disperse. It took a few more minutes for her to compose herself, then, squaring her shoulders, she headed for the exit. She was utterly despondent but she would have to wait until she was alone to fall apart. 

"Ma'am."

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to find a stalky gentleman in a black suit addressing her.

"Sorry, I know you're trying to clear this place out, I was just leaving," she said.

He shook his head. "Ma'am if you'll just come with me."

"What for?"

"The Governor asked me to find you and bring you to him."

Her heart jumped into her throat. 

"Okay," she answered.

"Right this way," the man said, leading her back behind the stage area and to a small office.

"He's in there, you go ahead in."

She breathed deep then rapped softly on the door.

"Come in." She couldn't get a handle on his voice. Was it strained? Angry? She supposed she was about to find out. Slowly she pushed the door open, then let it close behind her. 

He stood behind the small desk and turned around upon her entrance, his face unreadable. She gripped the handles of her purse so tight she could feel her fingernails digging into her palms.

Hillary couldn't help it, she was irritated. How dare he brush her off out there and now demand her presence like she was some groupie he could order around? Screw him.

"Nice of you to summon me here after pretending I didn't exist out there," she huffed. "I should have realized this was a mistake. That coming here would be disast-"

He was on her before she could register what was happening, grabbing the sides of her face and tilting it up to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. He pushed his tongue past her teeth and into the warm wet cavern of her mouth and she whimpered at the electric contact. Their tongues fought for dominance, pressing then retreating into one another's mouths while one of his hands slipped around to tangle in her hair and keep her from pulling away. Her arms circled his back and she balled her fists into his shirt. The kiss was intense, desperate, angry.

Hillary felt the hard ridge of the desk hit her backside as his lips blazed hotly from her mouth to her ear. His breath was inflaming her and she couldn't think straight. She wasn't even sure when he had maneuvered them toward it, but she was pretty sure what his intentions were now that they were there.

"Bill," she cautioned when he swept the contents quickly onto the floor and sat her on the edge. He captured her lips again, pushing her backwards until she rested on her elbows, legs hanging open over the side.

"Shut up Hillary," he snapped, gathering her floral skirt around her waist and stripping off her panties before she even had the wherewithal to protest. 

"The door," she bit back, but it turned into a long whimper as his middle finger slipped inside her, finding her hot and wet and ready. Bill growled but her words seemed to sink in because he hurriedly made his way the few feet to click the lock, undoing his belt in the process.

By the time he stood back between her parted thighs, his pants and briefs were around his ankles and his hard, thick erection jutted out from between his legs, precum already glistening on the tip. She laid all the way back and raised her hands over her head, gripping the edge of the desk and as he stepped closer she bent one knee and put her foot flat on the surface. Her other leg wrapped around him. 

"Do it Bill," she said, eyes hard.

Just when she thought he was going to plunge inside of her, he shocked her by falling to his knees and burying his face in her mound, swirling his tongue around her before running it up the length of her slit and then taking her hooded clit gently between his lips. 

"Fuck," she shrieked, not even thinking or caring at that point who might be listening.

Her hips bucked off the desk but he held her down, humming against her and causing delicious sensations that started at her toes and travelled upward, centering between her legs. He had her whimpering like a puppy when he added one finger to the mix, then a second, curling them up and in until they found the spot that would drive her out of her mind. Her eyes slammed shut and she sucked in a breath, back arching off the desk but hips anchored to it by his large hand.

"Take it," Bill rasped against her inner thigh, fingers still moving audibly inside her. She rode his hand with abandon, but as she felt the first flutters of her inner muscles, he pulled his fingers out of her and stood up.

"Please," she practically begged, grasping the edge of the desk with white knuckles. Her anger and irritation were quickly dissipating in favor of unadulterated lust. Her chest was heaving and her disheveled hair was fanned out around her head where she lay.

Bill eyed her hotly as he stroked himself and leaned closer. 

"Please what Hillary?" he demanded. 

He held the tip of his cock right at her opening, allowing her abundant moisture to coat it. She attempted to push her ass closer so he'd glide all the way home but he held her back. 

"Fuck me Bill. Now!"

She couldn't hold out much longer. She needed him to fill her. Thankfully he obliged, sinking into her warm, silky depths until she felt his balls press against her. They both went still for a moment, adjusting to him being buried so deep, then he leaned forward and pressed his palms flat on the desk on either side of her hips and started to move.

He slammed into her frantically, bending down to pant in her face. "You like that Hillary? Come all the way to Arkansas for a good fuck? That's right. Beg for it!"

"Fuck you William!" she spat. "How dare you walk out on me like that and then not call me? Who the hell do you think you are? Ohhhhhhh," she couldn't help the moan that escaped her as he circled his hips and ground against her clit.

"Governor, that's who. Say it." He pulled all the way out and pounded back in desperately.

She laughed bitterly. "Get over yourself!" 

"I'm over you. And I'm about to make you scream it," he husked. 

He wasn't far off. He rolled against her again, and by God he knew the exact right spot to hit to make her weak. 

"Ohhhhh," was all she could manage.

"Say it like a good girl and I'll make you come so hard," he breathed in her ear.

"No!" she said defiantly.

"Hillary," he warned. He licked the pad of his thumb and brushed it against her engorged clit and she jerked against him and breathed out through her nose, nostrils flaring.

"Bill." She was desperate for release but she couldn't give in so easily.

"All you have to do is say it Baby." This time he circled her clit with more force until she was writhing under him, taut and quaking.

"Please," she sobbed. He was timing every touch to her clit with the thrusts of his hips and she was losing control. She needed to come.

"SAY IT!" he shouted.

"Please Governor!" she cried. 

He nodded and lifted her legs up to his shoulders, pinning them there with one arm while the other hand continued to tease her pearl. He arched his back and picked up the pace, hammering into her hard and fast until he felt her inner walls clamp down on his cock like a vice, then ripple all around him as she rode out her orgasm.

"Yesssss," she wailed with every splintering wave. 

"Hillary, Baby," he choked a moment later, then fell forward on top of her with his head buried in the crook of her neck. Her legs dropped limply over the end of the desk as she attempted to catch her breath. 

He lifted his head and kissed her then, languid and tender compared to the angry fucking from moments before. She melted into it, she couldn't help it, especially when he cradled her head in his hands like she was the most precious thing in the universe. He shifted slightly to look down into her eyes.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said with a genuine smile.

Hillary was confused. "Why did you act like you didn't know me before?" she asked, unable to disguise the hurt in her voice.

Bill sighed. "I was trying to stay composed. When I saw you from the stage it shook me and I knew if I got too close to you I'd lose control and I didn't want to do that in front of a crowd. But as soon as I got away from everyone I sent Robbie to find you. I'm sorry if I made it seem like I didn't care -" 

She put her fingers to his lips to stop him.

"I really thought you were just going to let me go," she admitted.

"Never. I love you, I told you that." He got up off her and pulled his pants back up, fastening his belt and tucking in his shirt as best he could.

She watched him from her perch on the desk, her eyes filling with tears even though she was willing them not to. 

"Why didn't you call me?" she asked as she sat up and let her skirt fall back down her legs. She had no idea where her panties were.

"I thought I might have ruined things leaving the way I did. I was terrified you were going to tell me to leave you alone," he said sheepishly.

She chuckled. "We're a mess aren't we? Me sitting at home thinking you were gone for good, you here wondering if I was. I've been so miserable without you," she sniffed.

He pulled her into a hug and rested his cheek on the top of her head. 

"Me too Baby," he croaked.

"Why don't we get out of here and you can tell me all about it?" he suggested.

"You got it, as soon as I find my underwear," she said with a devilish grin.

Tbc...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is long, and there isn't a lot of talking. I promise they will get to it next chapter. They had a little lost time to make up for ;)

They opened the door to find Robbie posted outside, and from the looks of it, he’d been there some time. Hillary’s cheeks flamed - she was almost certain this young man had just heard them having loud, angry sex and she was mortified.

“Hey Robbie, can you have the car brought ‘round?” Bill asked with a clap on the man’s shoulder.

“Yes sir,” he replied, then looked pointedly toward Hillary, who immediately cast her eyes downward.

“Will Ms. Rodham be riding y...I mean, riding with you?”

Hillary caught the slip but Bill seemed not to notice.

“Yeah. In fact, she’ll be joining me at the residence for the rest of her stay.”

Bill took her hand as if to ask permission.

“If that’s ok with you Hill,” he said with a hopeful smile. She nodded.

Once safely ensconced in the back of the Town Car, Hillary covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with embarassed laughter.

“What?” Bill asked.

She peeked through her fingers. “Didn’t it occur to you that your guy probably heard us...”

Bill guffawed. “Goddamn!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Hillary said, a slight blush evident on her fair skin.

“Well, at least you were polite when you screamed ‘Please Governor!” he said with a wicked grin, prompting a smack in the chest with the back of her hand. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the giggles from bubbling out of her.

Turning serious, he held up his hand, palm out toward her, and she linked her fingers between his. His brow immediately furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“The third finger of your left hand...seems to be missing something. Where’s your engagement ring, Hillary?”

She sighed. “I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to wear it.”

“I see.”

She squeezed his hand where his fingers were still twined with hers.

“No you don’t,” she said.

With her other hand, she reached into the open neck of her blouse and pulled out a delicate silver chain, on the end of which dangled her ring.

“I couldn’t leave it off completely,” she said with a timid smile. “Besides, I didn’t know if you’d want it back.”

He took her face in his hands. “Put it back on please,” he demanded. She nodded wordlessly, then reached around her neck to unclasp the necklace.

It fell off the chain into his open palm.

“Will you do it?” she asked.

In response he took her left hand in his and shakily slid the ring back in place, then kissed it where it rested on her finger.

“Don’t take it off again,” he pleaded.

“Ok.”

He could tell she wanted to say more, maybe hash things out, but the car pulled to a stop just as she opened her mouth.

“We’ll talk more later Hill,” he promised with a finger over her lips. “We’re home.”

*****  
Hillary gave a low whistle as they entered the Grand Foyer hand in hand.

“Nice digs Governor,” she teased.

Bill chuckled. “Why don’t we have a look around? You get the benefit of having me as a tour guide,” he said with a wink.

He led her from the foyer into the living room, and Hillary looked around in awe. Everything was so ornate, so different from the way she and Chelsea had lived.

“It’s like a goddamned museum in here!” she said with a laugh, running her finger up the keys of the baby grand piano.

“Can I even touch this? Or is someone going to jump out of a corner and take me down?”

Bill gave a hearty guffaw, backing her up against the side of the piano and lifting her to sit on it. She wrapped her legs loosely around his waist.

“Well...” he began with a kiss to her neck, trailing down to her chest and up to her other ear. “...it’s a good thing you know the right people, because it just so happens I have the run of this place. I could fuck you in every room of this house if I wanted.”

Hillary shivered and tightened her legs around him. Against her better judgement, she allowed his large hand to cover her breast and tweak the nipple through the fabric of her shirt while the other began to inch her skirt up her thigh. His hot breath was distracting her.

“Honey,” she whispered, self conscious of being walked in on. But Bill was undeterred. He bit her earlobe as her skirt was pushed further up her thigh by his hand. Crushing his soft warm lips against hers, his tongue immediately began seeking entrance to her mouth, which she couldn’t help but grant. His hands were everywhere and she was having trouble remembering why it was a bad idea to let him take her right there in the middle of the formal living room.

“Bill, mmmm” she said again, tearing her lips from his. “Honey, not here.”

His eyes burned and nostrils flared from the effort of keeping himself in check. His hands stilled at her breast and thigh and he groaned as she slid off the piano and down the front of his body to the floor.

“I won’t be held responsible for the destruction of property that might result if I let you continue,” she said with her arms looped around his neck.

His hands were on either side of the piano next to her now and he leaned in close to her ear again.

“Then why don’t you let me give you the tour of the Governor’s private rooms,” he drawled seductively. “You can break anything you want.”

She inhaled sharply when he took her by the hand and practically dragged her out of the room.

Up the stairs and down the wide, elaborately decorated hallway they walked until they came to his bedroom door, which he backed into and pulled her unceremoniously behind him. She kicked it shut with her foot.

They stood looking at one another until Hillary broke the spell and began to unbutton her blouse. It hit the floor in seconds, then she walked further into the room and the skirt came down around her ankles. Another step out of it and she was reaching behind her to unhook her bra, then glide each strap down her slender arms to drop from the tip of her finger.

Bill stood transfixed as she stripped for him. She wasn’t even making a particularly huge effort to be sexy and yet she oozed sex. He wanted her with every cell in his body.

By the time she let her panties fall to her feet she was standing by the bed, which she crawled onto like a cat, laying gloriously naked on her stomach. Her head was at the foot of it, legs bent behind her, chin propped in her hand. She watched him with hooded eyes.

“I’m waiting for a tour of the Governor’s private bed,” she purred with a flick of her tongue over her lips, then a nibble to the bottom one.

“Baby,” he groaned, utterly turned on by the sensuality in her tone.

“It’s not polite to keep a guest waiting,” she said.

Bill pulled off his clothes with a swiftness he didn’t know he possessed until finally he was standing bare in front of her.

“Mmmmm, so far I like what I see. Especially _that_.” Her eyes dropped from his face to his thick, hard cock and she licked her lips again.

Bill stepped closer to where she was perched at the foot of the bed and deftly rolled her onto her back so she was looking up at him where he stood. His hands ran slowly down her body starting at her shoulders and worked their way over her breasts, stopping to tease her nipples into hard points with his thumbs and forefingers. She took a shuddering breath.

“That feels incredible,” she breathed.

His skillful fingers continued their journey down the ridges of her ribcage and over her quivering abdomen to the apex of her thighs, and she bent her knees and let them fall open to give him better access.

But despite her blatant attempt to get him to touch her center, he skimmed over her mound and then trailed lightly back up, circling her nipples again and making her moan.

He was so focused on touching her, he was oblivious when she hung her head over the edge of the bed, drew his cock toward her with one hand and engulfed him in her mouth from upside down.

“Fuck Hillary!” he exclaimed, hands going to either side of her on the bed to steady himself. He was able to thrust downward into her mouth and the point of her nose pressed deliciously into his balls every time he pushed inside. It felt fucking fantastic and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensations she was creating. She hummed around him and he was lost.

He opened his eyes just in time to watch her skim her own hands down her body and between her legs. She spread herself with one hand and dipped her finger between her lips with the other, then drew it up to circle around her clit. Between the sight of his cock plunging in and out of her wet mouth and Hillary pleasuring herself in time with the movements of his hips, he was quickly approaching the edge.

“Goddddd...shit Baby...so fucking hot. Ohhhh,” he groaned.

He shifted his weight to one hand on the bed and used the other to join with hers between her thighs. Moaning loudly around his length, she guided his fingers to her entrance and then back up to the knot of her clit, then moved her hand away so he could take over. Her hips bucked wildly when he positioned his thumb over her pearl and slid his first two fingers easily inside of her, curling them gently against the sensitive spot on the inner wall. The vibrations from her mouth on his cock increased in intensity and her body grew slicker. He knew she was close so he leaned over further and blew a stream of air against her and then she was coming, clenching ferociously around his pistoning fingers.

He eased out of her mouth, still hard, as her orgasm receded and laid on the soft pillows at the head of the bed while Hillary caught her breath at the foot. Seeing her laying there, breath hitching, still flushed from the pleasure he had given her, he had the overwhelming need to be tender with her. To show her with his body how much she meant to him. He pulled her into his arms then gently rolled her beneath him and her thighs opened around his waist to cradle him. Such a perfect fit. One hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin there, and the other slid under her to the small of her back. His eyes drilled into hers, searching for something, as she felt the tip of his cock nudge her entrance.

“Yes,” she whispered with a nod.

He pushed inside of her and felt her warm walls grip him snugly, surrounding him like satin. Overcome, he had to close his eyes and bury his face in the crook of her neck to keep from coming as soon as he filled her completely. Being inside of her was like being home, and he never wanted to experience the fear of being without her again.

Hillary ran her nails up and down his back in a soothing motion, knowing he was struggling to retain his composure.

“It’s okay Honey,” she said softly.

He looked at her then, eyes moist with unshed tears.

“It's never been like this with anyone else. Only you Hillary. Always you,” he said on a sigh.

She smoothed her fingertips over the furrows in his brow, trying to infuse her love for him into his skin. Her eyes held his.

“I know Billy, I know.”

Hillary pulled his face to hers and kissed him slowly, languidly on the lips. He remained still, pulsating inside of her and letting his tongue mimic the movements his lower body was longing to do.

“Don't ever leave me again,” she whispered against his lips with a plea. “I couldn't take it if you did.”

When the effort of being motionless proved too difficult, he circled his hips against her and she arched her back sensuously, throwing her head into the pillows with a whimper.

“Mmmmm,” she breathed.

“I need to move Hill,” he said with a hint of desperation.

She planted her hands on his ass to urge him on but he had other ideas.

“Let's roll over Baby, I want to watch you.”

They switched positions seamlessly, still connected, so that Bill lay flat underneath her with his hands above his head. Hillary sat astride him with her hands planted on his chest, breasts bouncing tantalizingly from their movements. She stared at him and shifted her hips, up then down in short strokes that massaged his aching cock and allowed her to rub her clit against his pubic bone.

“Yessss, so good.” His hushed words and the uneven sounds of their breaths filled the quiet room.

“Bill,” she whimpered. She was lost in sensation, head back and eyes closed and he watched her as the flush crept up her chest and neck and settled in her cheeks. The sight of her riding him had Bill on edge, hardening even more inside her silky depths.

He caught the back of her head and tugged her down to him for another kiss and she used the opportunity to twine her fingers with his above his head, using them for leverage as she sped up her movements. Longer, sharper strokes had them both moaning, grinding against each other with shuddering movements until Hillary ripped her mouth away from his and brought it to his ear.

“Please Honey, I'm so close. I need to come,” she begged. Her legs were quivering against the outside of his thighs and her fingers held a death grip on his.

“Shhhh, I've got you,” he cooed.

He untangled his hands from hers and anchored them at her hips, pressing her tighter against him on each downstroke so that her clit ground perfectly into him.

“Godddd yessss Bill, that’s it!”

Her rhythm was faltering now, face pressed into the sweaty crook of his neck and hips rising and falling furiously into his.

“I can feel you Baby, getting so tight and wet around me. God, I'm so deep in you. It's never been so fucking perfect.” He held her to him by the back of her head, feeling her hot breath searing his skin. A low, guttural moan emanated from deep in her throat as she started to come.

“There you go, Hill, shit you're clamping down so hard on my cock. It feels amazing.”

His words were drawing out her orgasm so one rolling wave crashed into another, matching the continuous whimpers and sighs slipping from her lips.

“Oh my God Billy,” she cried into his neck.

Bill pushed her over onto her back and slammed into her hard and fast. “I gotta come Baby. Love…you…so…much,” he punctuated each word with a jab of his hips. “Oh fuck yessss! Hillary!” he wailed, pushing into her a few more times until he was spent.

The room was quiet except for the labored breathing of the two occupants, who lay tangled in a sweaty mass of arms and legs and fluids, until the sound of Hillary’s stomach growling pierced the air. Bill laughed and rested his palm on her abdomen.

“Hungry?”

Her hand covered his.

“Starving! What do you have to eat around this place?”

Tbc…


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluffy conversation.

They stole through the darkened mansion and into the kitchen like a couple of bandits, leaving the lights off and tiptoeing straight for the fridge.

Hillary opened the double doors and began to forage for food.  Wearing only Bill’s shirt and bathed in the light of the refrigerator, he took the opportunity to study her from behind.  Starting from her small bare feet, up over shapely calves and luscious thighs, the curve of her bare ass just visible below the hem of the shirt as she reached in to move some items around.  Trim waist, elegant neck and golden locks still disheveled from their earlier lovemaking.  She was absolute perfection in his eyes.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, apparently finding a suitable snack.  She turned around carrying a large bowl and set it on the island with a triumphant smile.  

“If you’ve never eaten leftover spaghetti in bed, you don’t know what you’re missing,” she said joyfully.

“I guess I’m about to find out!” he chuckled.

*****

Situated back against the headboard of Bill’s bed, Hillary held the bowl in her lap and twirled the pasta around her fork.  Bill followed the graceful movements of her hands as they held the utensil out to him and he leaned toward her to close his lips around it.

“Mmmmm, you were right. Spaghetti in bed is heaven,” he said between chews.  She gave him a beatific smile.

“Told you! I am a habitual midnight snacker, especially lately.” she admitted sheepishly, popping the next bite into her waiting mouth.

“Not sleeping, Baby?” he asked.

She looked at him sideways, swallowing the last of what she’d been chewing. 

“Not a lot these days, to be honest.  I’ve been a mess since you left,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry, Hill.”

“Your daughter came home drunk last week,” she blurted.  Bill did a double take.

“Chelsea?  What?!  What did you do?”

“I spent the night vacillating between laughing at her, crying with her and wanting to kill her. It was a nightmare, but she did have lots of things to get off her chest.”

“Yeah? Like what?”  Chelsea getting drunk surprised him. Chelsea giving her mother a piece of her mind surprised him even more. 

“Let’s see...” she began with a sigh, “...first, she was not pleased that I had ‘screwed things up’ with you, to use her words. She also said in no uncertain terms that she was extremely angry at how I lied to her her whole life because I was selfish and cowardly...”

Bill sucked in a breath.  “Jesus Christ Hillary, that’s harsh.”

She squeezed his hand.  “No Bill, she’s absolutely right.  God, it was brutal to hear.  It was heartbreaking to realize I’d failed so spectacularly as a mother, and even more devastating that she had to get hammered to get up the courage to tell me.  But it’s the truth, and I need to deal with that. I need to try to help _her_ deal with that. _”_

“So how are things between you now?” he asked.

She smiled a little sadly. “We’re okay.  Once I accepted responsibility for my decisions instead of trying to justify them, the conversation got easier.  I can never make it okay. The same goes for you, Honey.  I need you to know how sorry I am.  For trying to make you be alright with the fact that you missed out on having Chelsea in your life because of my callousness, my fear.  You didn’t deserve it, and I probably don’t deserve you, but oh how I want us to work through this, together.”

“Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes.”  She took his hand in hers and began to trace around the outline of his fingers.

“Chelsea, in all her drunken wisdom, insisted you wanted me to come after you.  But also I just couldn’t leave things the way they were.  I know you asked for time and I really wanted to respect that, but I felt you slipping away every day that went by and I couldn’t go through that again.  I made a colossal mistake 19 years ago that cost everyone around me so much, I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.  You can yell and scream and rage at me, be as angry as you want about the things I’ve done and the way they’ve affected you, but I’m not letting you go unless you make me and God, I hope you don’t make me,” she choked.

He tipped her chin up with a finger so he was looking right in her eyes.  

“Hey. I’m not going anywhere.  Do you understand me?” She nodded, but still looked unsure.  “I need to hear you say it Hillary. Because I love you. I am _in_ love with you.  That means the good and the bad.  I’m here for all of it.  I can’t pretend I don’t have issues with your previous choices because that would be a lie.  But I would like to focus on moving forward, together.  You, me, and Chelsea.  A family.  Tell me you understand, and that you want the same thing,” he implored.

Fat tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and she took a shaky breath.  “I do,” she said with a nod.

“Good.  And tell me you’re not going to take that ring off again please.  Seeing you without it made me feel all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared to feel.”  She had to admit, this possessive side of him was rather sexy and she found herself smiling in spite of the seriousness of their conversation.

“Oh really?” she asked playfully.  “Such as?”

He yanked her closer to him so their mouths were aligned, half eaten bowl of spaghetti still between them.  “Like that you’re mine and that ring proves it and I want every other man on this planet to know it,” he growled just before plundering her lips with his.  A thrill ran through her at his words, at her seemingly innate ability to turn him from sweet southern gentleman to caveman with just the flash of her ring finger.

“Mmmmm, I think I like this side of you a little bit,” she said against his parted lips, then nipped his bottom one.  His eyes smoldered.  “Okay, I won’t take it off again,” she promised with a final peck.  He smiled, satisfied.

“How’s Chelsea been since that night?” he asked seriously.  He worried the relationship between mother and daughter might have taken a hit.

“Well, she was not a happy camper when she woke up hungover the next morning,” she chuckled.  “And then, she had to relive telling me how she let her boyfriend feel her up, so I’m fairly confident she won’t be pulling a stunt like that again any time soon.”  She sure as hell hoped not anyway.

“What?!?  Holy shit Hillary I hope you told her to stay away from that boy!”  He jumped up and started pacing by the bed, hands running though his hair.  “Is she alone at the house this weekend?  Oh my god!”

Hillary got on her knees and stopped him with her hands on his shoulders.

“Bill, relax! She’s eighteen years old. I can’t lock her in an ivory tower and keep her away from boys for the rest of her life!  You remember what it was like to be eighteen right?”  She was slightly amused by his reaction.

“Yes Baby, I certainly do.  I remember very well what it was like to be an eighteen year old _boy_ and that’s precisely why I’m worried! I know what that kid is thinking about and I’m sure you can guess what his ultimate goal is. Did you talk to her about it?  What did she say?”  

Hillary moved her hands from his shoulders to cup the sides of his face.  “We talked. She asked questions and I answered.  Honey, she’s got a really good head on her shoulders, but if she wants to have sex, she’s going to do it, and there’s not much you or I can do to stop it.  She’s been made aware of the precautions and the seriousness of it, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to give her the freedom to make her own choices.”  

She leaned her forehead against his with a smile.  “This is what being a parent is all about, I guess. Letting them navigate their own lives eventually, even though it seems impossible for us. But we’ll get through it together.  How’s that sound?”  She tipped her head down to look him in the eyes.

“God I love you, you know that?” he whispered, placing his hands on her wrists where they rested against his cheeks.

“Enough to go downstairs and bring back that entire peach pie I saw in the fridge?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes.  Enough to do just that.”

tbc...


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill gets more than he bargained for.

The driveway was empty, for which Bill was grateful.  In a stroke of good luck, he had been able to wrap up his work a day early, allowing him to catch an earlier flight to San Francisco and giving him an extra day with his family.  It had been three weeks since Hillary had come to Arkansas and a month since he’d seen his daughter, so he was really looking forward to a few quality days with his favorite girls.

Bill was glad to get there before anyone else, it allowed him time to shower after the long flight and make himself presentable by the time Hillary and Chelsea got home, hopefully pleasantly surprised to find him there waiting for them.

He hitched his bag over his shoulder and let himself in with the key Hillary kept under the stone on the front porch.  The first thing he noticed was what looked like Chelsea’s shoes on the mat in the foyer and her purse hanging from the bannister, but she didn’t seem to be there, at least not downstairs.  He thought it odd, but didn’t think too much more about it as he moved into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then started up the stairs with his bags so he could shower and get out of his rumpled clothes.

He could see on his first glimpse down the hall from the top of the stairs that Chelsea’s bedroom door was open a large crack.  This was also odd, he reflected, since if he remembered correctly she normally kept her door closed when she wasn’t at home, as he imagined most teenagers did.  It all became clear as he started to pass by the room on his way to Hillary’s.  The end of the bed was visible through the partially opened door and from his vantage point, he could see two pairs of legs stretched out, four feet tangled together.  Holy shit, she had that boy over!  And he was in her room!  On her bed!

Bill saw red, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he barged through the door, catching Chelsea and her boyfriend in an embrace, mouths fused together and that little shit’s hand at the hem of his daughter’s shirt.  Jesus Christ.

“Chelsea!” he exclaimed, and the two broke apart like someone had doused them with cold water.  James jumped up off the bed in a flash, a look of unadulterated fear masking his face when he saw the fire in Bill’s eyes.

“Dad?!? Oh my God!” Chelsea was obviously too stunned to say anything else.

“Bill,” James began, but stopped short when Bill turned the full weight of his glare on the young man.

“It’s Mr. Clinton,” he said with unmasked irritation.  “And I think you’d better go.”  The kid knew better than to argue.

“Uhhh, yeah okay.  Ummm I’ll call you later Chels. Okay bye.”  He scooped up his shoes from the floor at the foot of the bed and beat a hasty retreat out the door, leaving Bill and Chelsea alone.  

“I can’t believe you just walked into my room without knocking!” Chelsea cried, tears of anger and humiliation springing to her eyes of their own accord.

“And I can’t believe you had that boy up in your bedroom!” Bill shot back.  “Is this something your mother allows?”

Chelsea stared defiantly at him but didn’t answer.  He could hear her exhale loudly through her nose.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Bill said.  “And what would have happened had I not interrupted you?”  

“Nothing!  God, we were just kissing!  Why are you making such a big deal out of it?  And what are you even doing here anyway?  I thought you weren’t supposed to get here until tomorrow?”

Bill ran his hand through his hair and exhaled.  He was way out of his league here.  He really wished Hillary were home to help him deal with this because he had no idea what to do or say.

“Just kissing,” he repeated sarcastically.  “That’s sure as hell not what it looked like to me.”

Chelsea gave an exasperated sigh.  “Can you just leave me alone please?”  

Bill could hear the waver in her voice and decided not to push the issue right now.

“Of course.  But we’re not done here.  I’m sure we’ll all have a lot to talk about when your mom gets home.”

Chelsea flopped back against her pillows and put her arm over her face.  “Great,” she said with a groan.

Bill left her laying there, continuing on to Hillary’s room to set his luggage down and take a seat at the foot of their bed, head in hands.  His heart was hammering and his hands were shaking.  Had he just made a complete mess of things with Chelsea?  He hoped not, but he felt totally out of his element and now looking back on it, thought of all the ways he probably could have handled the situation better.  Maybe a shower would help calm his nerves and then he’d go back and talk to her.

By the time he emerged from the steamy bathroom, refreshed and ready to face the situation head on, Chelsea was no longer in her room.  He found her downstairs, curled on the end of the couch watching a television program.  She gave him a cursory glance, lips pursed, when he sat at the other end of the sofa, then went back to what she was doing.  Clearly she was not ready to deal with him yet.

“You want something to drink?” he asked, hoping to get her to talk to him.

“No thanks,” she said coolly, so he sat there and they watched TV in silence.

Hillary walked through the door a few minutes later, completely unprepared to see Bill and curious about the look on Chelsea’s face.  

“Bill!  Honey, what are you doing here?  I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow?”  She leaned down to cup his cheeks and give him a sweet welcoming kiss.

“I finished up early, thought I would surprise you!” he said cheerfully.

Chelsea scoffed from the other end of the couch.

“What’s going on?” Hillary asked, immediately alerted to the tension surrounding the two occupants on the sofa.

Bill and Chelsea spoke at the same time.

“He totally embar-”

“I found her up-”

Hillary held out both of her hands to put a halt to the rush of words that were assaulting her from all directions.

“Okay guys, one at a time.  Bill, you first.”  Chelsea hung her head.

“Chels, why don’t you go ahead and tell your mom what you were doing when I got here,” Bill offered.

“I was in my room,” Chelsea replied evenly.

So she wanted to draw it out.  Bill could play that game too.

“Were you alone?” Bill asked.  

Hillary looked between the two of them, waiting for someone to clue her in on what the hell had happened and why everyone was suddenly so glum.

“No,” said Chelsea.

“Who was with you?” 

“James.”  It was mumbled so softly that Hillary was sure she’d misheard.

“What was that?” This time Hillary demanded the answer.

“James.”  Chelsea looked at her mother for a reaction.

“I see,” she said tersely, jaw tight and brows furrowed.

“Mom, we weren’t doing anything, I swear!  He just walked right in on us without knocking, it was so embarrassing!” 

Bill got up to pace, his agitation getting the better of him again.  So much for trying to smooth things over.

“It didn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me Chelsea,” he said pointedly.

Hillary interjected again.

“This is getting nowhere.  Chelsea, go to your room please.  We’ll discuss this later.”

Chelsea didn’t move, simply staring at her hands.

“Now please!” 

Hillary hated raising her voice, but she felt like some separation was the only way to diffuse the situation.  She was furious at Chelsea but she needed to approach with caution, and flaring tempers by both her and Bill were not making it easy.  Chelsea finally found her feet and slinked up the stairs.  Hillary sat down on the sofa and rubbed at her temples, already feeling a headache coming on.

“How bad was it?” she asked, not sure she wanted the answer, but knowing she needed it.

“They were making out on the bed, his hand was moving up the bottom of her shirt.  Little bastard,” he grumbled.  Hillary couldn’t help but laugh at Bill’s descriptive language.

“Okay, well it could have been worse.”  She was trying to find some levity but the look on Bill’s face was making it difficult.

“Yeah, and it probably would have if I’d been five minutes later,” he replied, finding a seat next to her on the couch and starting to massage some of the knots out of her shoulders.

“What did you do?” she asked.  She dipped her head and allowed his hands to work their magic on her tight muscles.  

“Probably not the right thing,” he chuckled self-depricatingly.  “I stormed through the door yelling.”

He could feel her shoulders shake slightly from her laughter and he found himself joining her.

“That’s one way to get their attention,” she said.

Bill guffawed.  “I’m pretty sure James peed his pants. You should have seen the look on his face.”  

They were laughing now, enjoying a moment before the problem needed to be dealt with.  Hillary put her hands over Bill’s where they rested on her shoulders and leaned back against him.

“It’s so good to see you Honey,” she sighed.  He tilted her chin up and they kissed softly.  

“You go talk to Chels,” he whispered against her mouth.  “We’ll continue this later.”

Hillary patted her knees and stood up, taking a deep breath. 

“Wish me luck,” she said wearily.

He took her hand in both of his.  “I’ll have a bottle of wine open and ready for you when you get back,” he smiled.

Hillary blew him a kiss.  “You really are a prince.”

***

She knocked on the door of Chelsea’s room and heard a muffled “come in” so she pushed the door open.  She found Chelsea face down on the bed, head buried in the pillow and not bothering to budge when her mother entered the room.  Hillary sat beside her and pulled her hair out of her face so she could see her better and Chelsea peered up at her with one eye.

“So,” Hillary began.  “Care to explain to me why you had your boyfriend over while no one was here, when you know it’s explicitly forbidden?”  Silence ensued.

“No?  Was this the first time he’s been here when no adult was present?”  More silence, confirming what she already suspected.

“Chelsea,” she said with dejected exasperation.  

“We weren’t even doing anything,” Chelsea responded.

Hillary sighed.  “Well it wasn’t ‘nothing’ according to your father. But that’s really beside the point. The point is, Chels, you know my rules and you deliberately disobeyed them, and not just today it seems.”  Chelsea finally rolled over and looked at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  Hillary brushed her forehead with her fingertips.

“Are you sorry you did it, or are you sorry you got caught?” she asked seriously.

“Both I guess,” the girl answered.  At least she was being honest now.

“What would have happened if no one had come home?” 

“I don’t know,” Chelsea said timidly.  “Probably nothing.”

“Probably?”  

“I don’t know Mom, okay?  I mean, I think about it all the time, I am sure James is getting impatient, why not just get it over with so we can say we’ve done it and so I won’t be the only virgin starting their Freshman year of college?”  Chelsea threw an arm over her eyes.

Hillary had to laugh at her daughter’s logic.  She also had to dig down deep to remember what it was like being that age, with just enough freedom to make her own decisions, but walking the tightrope between grabbing that freedom and fear of disappointing authority figures.

“Baby, if you’re looking at sex like a task to get out of the way, I can say in all honesty that it’s probably not the right decision.  I know we’ve had this conversation before and you’re probably sick to death of talking to your mother about sex, but trust me when I say you’ll know when it feels right.  Do you feel that way with James?” 

She took Chelsea’s hand between her own, soothing over the soft skin, trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible with the subject matter.

Chelsea sighed.  “All I know is I like being with him, it makes me feel good.  And I don’t want him to bail.”

Hillary squeezed her daughter’s hand. “If he’s not willing to respect your pace, then he’s definitely not worthy of you,” she replied.  “And if he’s pressuring you to do something you’re not ready for, then I’ll kill him,” she added with a wink.  Finally, a small smile graced Chelsea’s face.

Hillary continued. “And while I can’t stop you from doing it, as much as I may want to, I can demand you abide by my rules and do not have James over when I’m not home.  So far you’ve really disappointed me in that regard, Chels.  I don’t ask a lot from you, and I place my trust in you to do what I’m asking.  Since I have to be away from the house to work and you have a job to go to, I can’t confine you to your room for the foreseeable future, so right now your punishment is going to consist of having your phone privileges revoked and you’re expected to be home straight after work until I see fit.  

“But...” Chelsea started to protest.

“But nothing.  Your father is here for the next few days anyway, so we’ll be spending time together as a family.  We can reassess the situation after that.  Understood?”

Chelsea nodded solemnly, obviously not happy with the impending punishment, but knowing she had no recourse.

“It was so humiliating having Dad walk in on us,” she grumbled.  “Why couldn’t he have just knocked?” 

Hillary chuckled.  “It wasn’t a picnic for him either, believe me.  He’s a mess down there.”

Chelsea cracked a smile.  “Yeah, I guess that would be weird.  I don’t even know what to say to him now.”  Hillary scooted her over to sit beside her against the headboard, arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“He loves you an awful lot Chels, and he totally freaked out, as you would say.  Just assure him everything’s ok, without giving him too much detail because I’m not sure he could handle it.”  she laughed.

“Ummm yeah I don’t think I could handle sharing too much with him, judging by his face when he came barging through the door.  I’ll talk to him.  I was kinda mean to him but I was really mad and embarrassed,” she admitted.

“Well then tell him you’re sorry,” Hillary nudged her and she leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Ok, I will.  Mama?”  Hillary knew she was probably about to ask for something.

“Yeah?”  

“I know I am not supposed to use the phone but can I at least call James and tell him why I won’t be calling him?  Please?”  Hillary could never say no to that voice.  God damn it.

“Fine.  You’ve got five minutes, and then we’ll see you downstairs for dinner.”

Chelsea kissed her cheek, happy she’d gotten at least a little concession out of Hillary.  

“Thanks!  I’ll see you in a few.”

“Five Chelsea, or I’m sending Dad up here to stomp through the door!  And trust me, you don’t want him getting on that phone with James.”  Chelsea nodded, already dialing her room phone before Hillary slipped out the door.

Situation handled.  For now.

Wine was needed in copious amounts, family dinner, and then time to get reacquainted with her fiancee.  

The night was finally starting to look up.

tbc...


	23. Chapter 23

Hillary was surrounded by warmth.  Under a warm blanket, a warm bare chest was pressed against her back.  Warm lips at her ear, a warm hand wending its way up her outer thigh and bringing her nightgown with it, then snaking around the skin of her waist and coming to rest on her warm abdomen.  Warm breath against her shoulder.  A warm, hard bulge pressed into her backside. In her hazy half-sleep she was aware only of that warmth, of the softness of the mattress and sheets, and the solid feel of him wrapped around her, like a beautiful dreamy cocoon she never wanted to emerge from.

Unfortunately for her, those warm hands had impatient and insistent fingers, which were now slowly slipping between her thighs to touch her.  She heard a low groan at her ear as they found their target, still swollen and wet from their earlier joining.  They had spent most of the night making love, getting reacquainted after three long weeks apart, falling into each other’s arms almost the moment the bedroom door clicked shut. 

The first time was hard and fast, taking the edge off of the desire they’d built up during their separation.  Words of love and sex panted against tingling skin and whispered hotly in each other’s ears.  The release had been swift for both of them, one after the other until they fell back against the mattress spent and sticky.  

The second time was slow and tender, skin sliding sensuously over skin.  Long, lazy kisses punctuated with whimpers and sighs.  They were poetry, moving together in tandem.  Like the ebb and flow of the tide until the wave crested and she came, a soft cry escaping her parted lips.  Bill continued to move within her for only a few moments longer until he too succumbed to release.  He had pulled the blankets up over their cooling bodies and they had fallen asleep tangled together in the middle of the bed.

To Hillary, that had seemed like only minutes ago, like she had blinked and been awakened by the feel of him stoking her again.

“Mmmm Honey...so tired,” she murmured, limbs becoming heavy with sleep again.

Bill’s fingers never stilled, his erection becoming more insistent against her bottom.  It all felt so good on the periphery of Hillary’s consciousness; the warmth, the turgid moisture, the movements of his fingers.  She let out a soft sigh of pleasure and placed her hand on his wrist, lulled by the up and down motion.

“But Baby I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed.  “Missed being inside you.”  Hillary moaned as she felt him start to thrust his hips against her naked buttocks. 

“Let me do all the work,” he whispered, dropping slow, wet kisses to the exposed skin of her shoulder.  

He had bent her knees up and was about to inch his way inside when the shrill ringing of the phone pierced the air.  His head dropped and he groaned, but didn’t relinquish  his hold on her, fingers still plunging between her legs.  

“Don’t answer it,” he pleaded.  “Whoever it is will call back.”  His voice held a note of desperation.  Hillary, now more awake, glanced at the clock.

“Honey it’s 6am, what if it’s important?” 

Bill groaned again and rolled onto his back, trying to tame his raging hard-on while Hillary reached over to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” she said, attempting futilely to disguise the edge in her voice. 

The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely not what she expected.   Soft and sweet and young and female.  And asking for her fiancee.  

“Hi, may I speak with Bill please?” the young woman had said.  She sounded about fifteen to Hillary’s ears.   

Hillary glanced at Bill out of the corner of her eye.  Eyes screwed shut, still trying to get his body under control.

“Ummm sure, may I please tell him who’s calling?” she asked, now clearly annoyed.  Why was some young girl calling Bill at 6 am?  How did she even know where to reach him?

“Oh yeah, tell him it’s Amber, I’m Blanche Lincoln’s assistant.”  

Hillary was aware that Bill had continued to campaign for Lincoln and would do so until election day, but why her assistant was making calls to him personally and when he was  two thousand miles away was baffling.  She handed the receiver to Bill.

“Amber,” she said and rolled her eyes.  Bill looked confused for a second, like he was trying to work out who that might be.  He furrowed his brow.  “Blanche Lincoln’s assistant...” Hillary provided and recognition dawned, then bewilderment.  He gave her a sheepish smile as he put the phone to his ear.

“This is Bill.”  He nodded his head as he listened.  

“Hey Amber...I’m good thanks, how are you?  Well, nothing honey it’s 6 o’clock in the morning here, I’m still in bed. Yeah, two hours time difference.  It’s fine, I was awake.”  Hillary stifled a laugh from the other side of the bed.  He’d been awake alright. 

 “Uh huh...she did?”  He looked irritated.  “Okay, well I’m not back in town for another four days so I won’t be available, I’m surprised Leticia didn’t tell you that.  Oh...she did.  Sorry Amber, that just won’t be possible.  You know I’d love to help and I’ll jump right in as soon as I’m back but I can’t do it now.  Okay, you can reach out to Leticia if you have any further questions.  Oh yeah? I’ll have to check it out.  You know I love being a TV star,” he chuckled.  “Okay Amber, talk to you later, bye.”

Bill handed the phone back to her and collapsed against the pillows with a sigh.

“Amber?” 

He looked over at her.  “Yeah.  She’s a nice kid but a little overzealous sometimes.  And I could kill Leticia for giving her this number.  I’m going to have to have a word with her about that.”

“What did she want anyway?” Hillary asked.

“To set up some campaign stops for Blanche.  Said she lost a couple of percentage points in the polls and they hoped by getting me out there, it’d make a difference.”

“And she couldn’t go through your assistant to do that?” Hillary said in disbelief.  

Bill shook his head in annoyance.  “She said Leticia told her to check with me, although I left my schedule with her.  I have no idea what’s going on.  Oh, but she did say to turn on CNN because there’s a small clip about Blanche’s run coming up at the top of the hour and guess who’s featured?” He smiled like a schoolboy.

“Let me think...” said Hillary sarcastically.  She attempted to get out of bed and head for the bathroom, but Bill’s hand circled her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he drawled, laying her down and covering her body with his.  His mouth went straight to her ear.  “I believe I was about to show you how much I’ve missed you before we were so rudely interrupted,” he breathed.

Hillary laughed and stroked his back.  “Yeah?  I thought you already conveyed that message last night...twice,” she purred.  “But you know I never tire of hearing it...ohhhh,” she moaned as his hand slipped between her legs again, up through her moist folds to her clit, circling, pressing.  “Mmmmmm.”

“Baby,” he groaned.  “God you have no idea how much I need to be inside you.”  

She reached down and circled his length with her hand, pumping a few times before pulling him to her, lining his hardness up with her softness.  She spread her legs wider and he started to sink in.  “Show me how much,” she whispered.  And he proceeded to do just that.

*****

They sat down with their coffee in front of the television, turned to CNN at Bill’s request.  Hillary thought how adorable it was that he was excited to be in the spotlight, despite having been in politics for so long.  

The spot started with a clip of Lincoln defending a woman’s right to choose, overlaid with the newscaster’s voice.  _“Things are heating up in the race for the Arkansas senate seat soon to be vacated by retiring Senator Dale Bumpers!  Blanche Lambert Lincoln, once a member of the US House of Representatives, left in 1996 after just two terms to care for her newborn twins. Now she’s back with her eye on the Senate.”_

The next clip was one of Bill and Lincoln talking seriously, surrounded by her aides if Hillary had to guess.  One handed Bill a sheet of paper as he was about to ascend a staircase at a rally.  The girl was young and thin and very blonde, and she was looking at Bill like he was the greatest thing she’d ever seen.  

Bill was glued to the TV with a smile.  _“Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton, a longtime political ally of Lincoln, has been hitting the trail to stump for the young Democrat, drumming up support among the working class males in more rural parts of the state.”_

The next clip showed Bill shaking hands on a rope line, that same young blonde girl’s hand ushering him along.  Hillary felt her stomach clench.  

_“Clinton’s favorability as Governor has been a huge asset to Lincoln, whose poll numbers showed a small drop this week, until her opponent’s crass comments relating to abortion and now she’s holding steady at forty six percent.”_

The next clip was of Fay Boozman, Lincoln’s opponent, insisting that pregnancies resulting from rape were due to ‘God’s little protective shield.’  Bill shook his head in disgust.  

“What a moron that guy is,” he said angrily.

The spot ended with Lincoln and Bill holding their linked hands above their heads in a show victory, surrounded by a crowd of supporters.  And there was that girl again, on the sidelines, moony-eyed and smiling.  Hillary had had enough.

“Who’s the blonde in all the clips with you and Blanche?” she asked, trying like hell not to sound as edgy as she felt.  Surely this was crazy and her overactive imagination was getting the better of her.  After all, she was a grown woman and that girl was probably not much older than Chelsea.  

“Oh, that’s Amber,” Bill replied.  “Blanche’s assistant. I’m sure you remember her from this morning,” he chuckled. 

“How could I forget,” she said with a hint of exasperation. 

“She’s a nice girl,” he replied, completely oblivious to Hillary stiffening beside him.  “Very smart and always very eager to help,” he continued.

“I’ll just bet,” Hillary muttered.

He looked at her, sitting ramrod straight next to him. “What do you mean?” he asked seriously.  He really didn’t have a clue.

“Honey, she’s looking at you like she wants to eat you alive.  She’s got a thing for you,” she answered.

Bill gave a loud hearty laugh.  “You can’t be serious, Hill.  She’s half my age at most.  Perhaps she’s a bit star struck, but I”m sure that’s all it is.”

Hillary harrumphed and Bill leaned closer to her on the sofa.  He placed their mugs on the coffee table.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he said, leaning her back into the arm of the couch, lips inches from hers.

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” she said defiantly, but she couldn’t quite hide the tremble in her voice.

“Hillary,” he said seriously.  “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”  She looked away and he took her chin in his hand, bringing her eyes back to his. “Right?” 

Hillary sighed, eyes tearing up despite her best efforts to avoid it.  God, she couldn’t believe she was letting such a small thing affect her so much.  “It’s just...”

“It’s just what, Baby, tell me,” said Bill.

“It’s just that I was complacent before where other women were concerned, and we both know how that worked out.”  She let out a breath.  

Bill’s expression changed from one of mild amusement to someone who had just been punched in the gut.

She continued.  “And here we are again, long stretches without seeing each other, late night phone calls, it’s hard. I miss you so much.”  Her bottom lip quivered and Bill rubbed his thumb over it.

“I miss you too,” he said honestly.  “I count the hours until I can hear your voice, the days until we can be together.  There’s no way I would do anything to screw it up.  I’m not that guy anymore, Hill.  You need to believe that.”  His eyes searched hers for understanding, acceptance.

Hillary sniffled.  “I know, I just need to hear it sometimes I guess,” she admitted, circling her arms around his neck.

“You can trust me,” he whispered right before he brought his mouth to hers for a deliciously sweet kiss, imbued with all the love and desire he felt for her.  He slid one hand into her hair and the other went to her back, keeping them connected.  She closed her eyes when his tongue pushed her lips apart and slipped into her mouth, pressing languidly into her own.  Her hands caressed his soft hair as the kiss went on and on until they heard a noise behind them and they eased apart and looked in its direction.

“Ugh!” said Chelsea with her hands on her hips.  Bill and Hillary both pursed their lips to keep from laughing at their daughter’s pained expression.

“First off...I didn’t need that to be the first thing I saw when I walked downstairs.  Secondly, do I need to ground you and take away your phone privileges?  Making out with a boy in this house is enough to get you in trouble,” she huffed.

Hillary pushed Bill upright with her shoulder so they were both sitting, smiling brightly at Chelsea’s discomfort and obvious irritation.

“Awwww Baby we’re sorry, did we spoil your breakfast?” asked Hillary, placing her hand on Bill’s thigh with a pat. Chelsea nodded, but a smile graced her lips.  

“Also, the nice thing about being a grown up with responsibilities and your own house is that you get to ‘make out’ anywhere you want!”  

Chelsea rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her.  “God, sometimes you guys are just too cute.  It’s annoying,” she quipped.

Hillary looked at Bill out of the corner of her eye with a beatific smile.  

“If the worst you can say about your parents is that they’re so cute it’s annoying, then I’m okay with that,” she said and Bill nodded beside her.

“Now, let’s have some breakfast and then we can spend the whole day being cute and annoying to you!”

tbc...

 


	24. Chapter 24

August 3, 1998

 

The blinking red light on the answering machine didn’t catch Hillary’s attention until she had almost finished putting away the groceries.  Noticing it out of the corner of her eye, she absently pressed the button and then opened the fridge to put the milk in, half listening.

“Hey Baby it’s me.  Ummm, can you please give me a call when you get this?  I want to talk to you about something. I’m at the residence. Talk to you soon, love you. Bye.”  Something in his voice sounded off and she couldn’t tell what it was.  She held her breath as she dialed his home number, thankful that he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey,” she said quietly.  “Just got your message.  Sorry Honey, I was out grocery shopping.”

She heard his soft chuckle on the other end of the phone, putting her mind at ease, at least momentarily.  “So you haven’t turned on the news I’m guessing?” he asked, almost sheepishly.

“No, I just got in.  What’s going on Bill?”

“Something happened,” he began, trying to keep it light but she could tell it wasn’t good.

“Tell me.”

“First off, stop worrying because I can tell by your voice that you are.  It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Something was definitely up.  “William, tell me what’s happened, you’re scaring me,” she demanded.

“I was out campaigning for Blanche and I got dizzy and short of breath.  My chest felt weird.  They called an ambulance and I went to the hospital-” He heard her gasp.  “Hillary, I’m okay.  It wasn’t a heart attack, just angina. But it’s been all over the news and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

God she fucking hated being so far away from him.  “You’re okay?  How are you feeling now?  What did the doctor say?” she asked.  She needed to hear him say it again.

“I’m okay Baby.  I’m feeling a little tired but otherwise fine.  I’ve been resting all evening, don’t worry.  I have an angiogram scheduled for tomorrow at nine o’clock.  Just a precautionary measure Hill, it’s nothing.”

“I’m coming out there,” she said, searching desperately in her purse for a pen before she made a call to her travel agent.

“Hillary.”  He sounded tired.

“Bill, I need to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.  I’m coming out there.”

“Hillary,” he said again.  “I’ll make you a deal.”  She hated deals.

“What.”

“Let me have the angio-”

“Bill-”

“Let me have the angiogram and if they see anything at all, which I’m sure they wont, I want you here okay?”  He heard her sigh heavily.  “Baby it’s already 7pm there, you’d have to fly all night to get here anyway, let’s just see what they say and I’ll call you as soon as I’m done, alright? Please?”

“Who’s going to be there with you?” she asked.

“Well, I’ve got Leticia, and Robbie can take me back and forth, I won’t be alone.”  

“Absolutely not, I’m on my way.  No arguments Bill.  What hospital will you be at? I’ll be there.  Either before you go in or when you come out, I’ll be there.”  

“UAMS, I check in at 8:30,” he answered.  “Baby you don’t have to do this, everything will be fine I’m telling you.”

“UAMS, Little Rock?”

“Yes.”

“I’m calling the travel agency now, I’ll call you back with the flight information.”

“Sure Hill.”

“Talk to you in a few minutes.  I love you,” she said, her mind already thinking two steps ahead.

“I love you too. Hillary?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you.”

 

*****

His phone rang twenty minutes later, jolting him out of the light slumber he’d fallen into.

“Hello?”  She could tell he’d been dozing.

“Honey it’s me, I’ve got a 10:15 flight.  I land just after 8:30 your time, I’ve got to stop in Atlanta, but I’ll be there.  Will you be able to send someone to pick me up?”

“Someone will be there,” he said.

“Okay, I’m going to throw a bag together and get to the airport. Call Leticia and let her know I’m coming and then you go back to sleep alright?”

“Sure Baby, I’ll see you in the morning.  Love you.”

“I love you too, Bill.  Good night.” 

_Hold on,_ she thought.  _I’m coming._

 

*****

August 4, 1998

 

Hillary hated hospitals.  She supposed not too many people actually liked them, but that didn’t negate the fact that she felt incredibly uncomfortable.  The air, the smells, the thought of people suffering, it was overwhelming to her.  She tamped down her unease and made her way to the reception desk to talk to the nurse, who looked up at her approach.  

“Hi, I’m Hillary Rodham, I’m here to see Governor Clinton, has he gone in yet?”  The clock on the wall said 9:07, hopefully the doctor was running a little late so she could catch him before he went in.

“Hi Hillary, I’m Barbara, I’m actually taking care of Governor Clinton this morning. I was told to expect you. They haven’t taken him back to the cath lab yet, but they did just give him a little something to relax him.  You’re welcome to see him for a couple of minutes, but he might be kind of loopy.” 

Hillary chuckled. “Sure, which room is his please?”

“810, just down the hall on the left.  I believe his security person is around there somewhere.”

“Thank you so much,” Hillary said over her shoulder, hurrying toward his room. She wanted at least a moment with him before they took him back.

Hillary pushed the door open and crept in.  There he was, laying in the hospital bed, IV in his arm, electrodes visible from under the neckline of his hospital gown.  His eyes were closed but he had a goofy grin on his face - whatever they’d given him must have started to work.  She swallowed hard and plastered on a smile.

“Hey Honey, I’m here,” she said quietly, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He looked up at her with drowsy eyes.

“Hilly,” he slurred. “You came.”  He pulled her close.

“Of course I did.  I need to keep an eye on you,” she said with a watery grin.  “How are you doing?”

"You're so beautiful," he said dreamily.  "I’m so happy to see you."  

"And you're on drugs," she replied with a chuckle.  "I've been on a plane for five hours, I'm not wearing any makeup and I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

 "Beautiful," he repeated, pointing to his lips.  "Kiss please."  His eyes were hooded and unfocused but she couldn't resist him even when he was high as a kite. She leaned in further and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, moaning in surprise when he sloppily tried to deepen it, but she allowed it ever so briefly.

"Honey," she giggled as she eased out of it. 

He was about to go in for another when Barbara entered with two orderlies and a bed to wheel him down for the procedure.  Bill grumbled under his breath.

"Governor Clinton!" she said cheerily.  "How are we feeling?" She gave Hillary a knowing wink.  "All ready to go?"

"I'm fantasssticc," he slurred, eyes closed.  "Let's get 'er done."  He was slowly losing the battle with consciousness as they transferred him from one bed to the other.

When they were done, Hillary held up a hand.

"Can I have just one more minute?" she pleaded.

"Of course, we'll be in the hall," Barbara answered.  "Just a moment though, okay?  They're ready for him."  She and the orderlies stepped outside and closed the door.  Bill was almost out - eyes closed and breathing even - she almost hated to disturb him but she knew he probably wouldn't remember anyway.

"Billy," she whispered. 

"Hmmm."  A small smile graced his lips.

"Chelsea sends her love, she wishes she could be here but I told her we'd call her with any news, okay?  I'll be here when you get back."

"Mmmm she's so sweet I love her. And I love you Baby."  His voice was low and soft as he drifted off again.

"Love you too.  See you in a while."  She stroked his forehead and kissed him one last time, then opened the door so they could wheel him out.

"Bye Bye Hilly."  

The group dispersed, leaving her alone in his room.  Refusing to entertain the thought that he'd be anything other than fine, she tidied up then went to splash some water on her face and brush her teeth, knowing she'd need to be fresh when he got back.

 

*****

She had no idea how much time had passed as she sat in a chair beside his empty bed, having finally succumbed to the exhaustion and slipped into a restless sleep.  The next thing she knew, she felt the breeze of the curtained partition against the back of her chair when the door opened to admit Bill entrance and suddenly she was awake and wide-eyed, heart pounding in her ears.

Bill was also awake, laying flat in the bed and gracing her with a smile.  

“Still here?” he teased.  His color looked good but as they transferred him back to his own bed, she noticed him wince slightly.  

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” she said with a kiss to his forehead.  “How did it go? You feeling alright?”

Her hand rested over his heart and he covered it with his own.  “Little tired,” he admitted.  “Little sore where they put the catheter in, but otherwise I’m fine.  How are you?”

“Better now that you’re back.”  Her other hand stroked his hair, soothing him.

Just then Barbara walked in the door with a grin.  “Governor, welcome back!  Just came to get your vitals.  What’s your pain level on a scale from one to ten, one being no pain and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

Bill considered the question.  “Oh, ‘bout a two I’d say.  I’ve got some soreness in my groin from the catheter but that’s about it.”

Barbara nodded, taking his pulse manually against her watch, then she fitted him with the blood pressure cuff and put on her stethoscope.  “Everything looks good here,” she said when she was finished.  “The doctor should be in shortly to discuss the results of your procedure, in the meantime, anything I can get you?”

Bill shook his head.  “No thanks, I think I’m good.  Hillary here can fluff my pillows for me if need be,” he said with a wink in Hillary’s direction.  She blessed him with a genuine smile.

“Alright, don’t hesitate to pull the call button if you need something, I’ll be right outside.  And make sure to stay flat to avoid any bleeding in the area.”

It seemed the door had just closed behind her when there was a knock at it.

“Come in,” called Bill.  

A tall, slender, 50-something gentleman walked in, scrubs still on, clipboard in hand.  His face was unreadable but Hillary couldn’t help the nervous feeling his entrance created in the pit of her stomach.

“Governor Clinton! Don’t get up,” he joked, then turned to Hillary with an outstretched hand.

“I’m Doctor Katz.  You must be Hillary.”  Hillary was perplexed, her brow furrowed.  Dr. Katz gave a hearty chuckle.

“Seems the Governor here could not say enough about your virtues under sedation.  You must be pretty remarkable.”  

Bill was grinning from ear to ear.  He had no idea what he had said, but it must have been memorable. The blush crept up Hillary’s neck and settled in her cheeks, but she smiled and extended her hand in greeting.

“Hillary Rodham, nice to meet you.”

“You too.”  

Dr. Katz turned to Bill, his smile fading slightly.  “Well, we’ve got the results of the angiogram.  I’m afraid they’re not what we’d hoped for.”  Bill and Hillary exchanged a worried glance, then looked toward the doctor expectantly.

“You have severe plaque buildup in four major arteries leading to the heart.  Some more than ninety percent blocked, which prevented us from doing an angioplasty.  Your only option is coronary bypass surgery for all four arteries.”

Bill squeezed Hillary’s hand as hard as he could, speechless, while Katz continued.  “Consider yourself lucky Bill, had you not come in yesterday and had we not performed the test, you were headed for a major coronary event in the very near future.  I understand this outcome is not ideal, but I promise, it could have been worse.”

Hillary let out the breath she’d been holding and kicked into gear.  “So what happens next Doctor?” she asked.  Bill remained silent beside her, still in shock and dismay.

“Well, I’d like to schedule the surgery as soon as possible and monitor him here in the meantime.”

He turned back to Bill. “We’ll go ahead with the procedure tomorrow, I’ll have Barbara put you on the schedule first thing in the morning.”

Bill cleared his throat and attempted to speak. “What does the surgery entail, Doctor?” he asked almost meekly.  Doctor Katz pulled up a stool so he could sit at the bedside, clipboard resting on his thighs.

“Basically, you’ll go under general anesthesia, we’ll stop your heart and connect you to a pump to take over heart and lung functions for you, then we’re going to take healthy blood vessels from your left and right chest and leg and bypass the clogged arteries by grafting them to the aorta and then attaching them to the other side of the blockages.  After that, we’ll take you back off the pump and allow your heart and lungs to begin working on their own again.  The surgery itself is between four to six hours, and then you’ll be in recovery for another two to three depending on how you do with the anesthesia.”

Bill swallowed.  “Okay,” he said.  He couldn’t think of another thing to say or another question to ask without becoming overly emotional.  He could see Hillary out of the corner of his eye, like a statue, her hand still squeezing his.

“What’s the recovery time?” she croaked.

Dr. Katz spun the stool to face her.  “Luckily, Governor Clinton is young and relatively healthy. Patients in good overall health can resume about seventy percent of previous activities in six to eight weeks with a full recovery in about two to three months.”

“And what about work?” asked Bill.  “I can’t just take six weeks off!”  He was getting agitated.

“Honey,” she soothed.  “Calm down. I’m sure there’s a procedure in place for this, there’s got to be contingencies.  We’ll give Leticia a call a little later and figure it out.” 

Doctor Katz spoke.  “I’m sorry Governor, but you’re going to have to allow your body time to heal.  That means intensive cardiac rehabilitation intermingled with rest and as little stress as possible.  Speak to your advisors about it, but I’m strongly suggesting you hand over your duties to a successor for at least six weeks so you can focus on your recovery.  Doctor’s orders.”

Bill closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  He needed the doctor to leave, to be alone with Hillary, needed her calming influence.

“Thanks Doctor Katz,” he managed.  

“You’re welcome Governor.  We’ll get you back up in fighting form in no time, but you have to work with us.  Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” Bill said softly.

“Good, I’ll be by later this evening on rounds to check on you.  Hillary, pleasure meeting you.  I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.  If you have any questions or concerns, anything at all you think of between now and then, please don’t hesitate to reach out to my office or to the nurses’ station and they can page me.”  With that he walked out the door, leaving Bill and Hillary alone in the room, stunned and shaken.  His hand never let go of hers.

_Stay strong Hillary,_ she thought.  _He needs you._

“It’ll be okay,” she said, trying like hell to sound like she believed it.  “You’re in the right place, they caught the problem early, you’re doing the right thing.”   She leaned over to kiss his him softly.  “I’ll be here with you every step of the way, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Bill needed her close to him, needed her to infuse some of that confidence right through his bones because at that moment he’d never been more frightened in his life.  All his hopes for the future played through his mind like a movie, and he couldn’t help but wonder if any of them would come to fruition now.

“Come here,” he begged, scooting over in the bed and patting the space beside him.  “Lay down with me please.”

Hillary slipped off her shoes and gingerly climbed up next to his side, careful not to put too much pressure on him, and he wrapped his arm around her.  She rested her head on his shoulder, tipping her chin up to look at him.

“I can’t do this without you,” he admitted, looking down into her eyes.  And he truly meant it.

“You won’t have to Honey.”   She placed another gentle kiss on his lips and hugged him closer, thankful beyond all measure that she was there with him.

Barbara found them like that, entwined and asleep, an hour later when she came to get his vitals again.  

tbc...


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to address the emotions that some patients face after such a major event, so maybe Bill wasn't the nicest in this chapter, but there is definitely a reason behind it.

August 13, 1998

 

“I need to rest a minute.”  Bill stopped halfway up the staircase, hand clutching the railing.  It was his second trip up and he was feeling the strain - all heavy limbs and heaving chest - he couldn’t wait for his torture session to be over.  Seven more steps and he’d be done, if he could only will his legs to cooperate.

“Come on Honey, you’re almost there,” said Hillary.  She’d taken on the role of walking partner, nurse and cheerleader since he’d been home from the hospital, and today was no different.  Except that Bill was spoiling for a fight, and had been for most of the morning.

He took another step and stopped again, bending over from the exertion.  Christ he hated this.  Hated feeling so small and weak, needing help with every fucking thing he did.  Hated his body for betraying him the way it had, making even the simplest task seem insurmountable.  Lastly, he hated that Hillary was seeing him like this, only a week into his recovery and looking like a shell of the man he’d been.  He hated all of it and it was turning him bitter and angry.

“Just a few more, Bill,” she coaxed beside him.  Bill tried again and made it three more steps before doubling over and trying to catch his breath.

“Goddamn it!” he yelled.  “I told you I needed a fucking break Hillary, can you please just lay off?”

If his vitriol penetrated Hillary’s armor, she gave no outward sign.  They’d warned her about this at the hospital, the chance that he may be moody and lash out as he faced his mortality and came to grips with a tiresome recovery.  She squared her shoulders and let his foul mood roll right off her back.

“Give me three more steps and then I’ll leave you alone.”  Her voice was soft yet demanding and despite his outburst, if anyone could motivate Bill Clinton to do something, it was Hillary.  He pushed through the exhaustion and shortness of breath and took the final stairs, then without another word walked toward the bedroom with Hillary at his heels.

“I’m going to shower,” he declared upon entrance.  Maybe the warm water pounding down on his sore muscles would lift his mood a little.  It certainly couldn’t get any worse.  At least he could collect his thoughts in peace.

“Do you need any help?” 

Bill, who’d begun rummaging through his drawer for a fresh t shirt and underwear, turned to face her, blue eyes steely.  

“Jesus, I’m not a child!” he snapped.  She pursed her lips and held his eyes, not backing down.

 _Breathe Hillary,_ she thought.  _He’s trying to get under your skin.  Don’t let him._

“You’d never know it from your behavior this morning,” she replied as evenly as she could, then stopped herself from going further.  She knew he was struggling and she was trying her hardest not to let it affect her, but he’d been hammering away at her resolve all morning.

“Look, Honey, I know how hard this must be for you-”

Bill scoffed.  “Could you stop being so goddamned patronizing for one second?  How could you possibly know what this is like?  Did you have your chest cracked open and your heart stopped?  Do you have to have someone help you go to the bathroom or take a shower?  Do you lie awake at night wondering if every little twinge you feel is going to kill you?”  

He stopped and screwed up his face, unable to stop the tears from welling in the corners of his eyes.  “You have no idea,” he finished softly, sitting on the edge of the bed in quiet defeat.  Hillary knelt in front of him, hands on his knees, her eyes searching his.

“You’re right,” she said.  “But I’m trying to understand.  We’re partners, Bill.  Soon we’ll be husband and wife-”

Bill sighed.  “You don’t want to marry me Hillary,” he whispered.  

“No?  Isn’t that my decision?”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need, Baby.  What if I’m never the same again or worse, what if I die?  How is that fair to you?  You’d probably be better off without me.”

Hillary brought her hands down and smacked his thighs as hard as she could in frustration. She’d finally reached her breaking point and she needed out before she said something she’d regret.  Standing up in front of him, she rested her hands on her hips.

“You know what Bill?  You’re right about one thing... At this very moment I am better off without you.  So I’m going to do us both a favor and I’m going to head out to the gardens and have some lunch, and a very large drink.  If you’d care to join me when you’re through having your pity party here, feel free.  Otherwise, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then turned on her heel and left, leaving a dumbfounded Bill in her wake.

 

*****

He found her a half hour later at a small table under the pergola, a half empty glass of something in her hand.  Hillary eyed him warily as he approached and he held his hands up in surrender.

“I guess you weren’t kidding about that drink, huh?”  His smile was genuine and she found herself returning it.  Damn it, she couldn’t stay angry with him.

“See what you’ve driven me to?” she chuckled.  “Drinking by myself in the middle of the day.  Isn’t that a sign of something?”

“That your fiancee is acting like an asshole?”  At least he had the good grace to sound sheepish.

She quirked an eyebrow at him as she took a hearty sip. “Oh, are we engaged again?” The words reverberated against the rim of her glass. “I thought the wedding was cancelled.”  

“Hillary, I-”  

He sat opposite her and reached for her free hand, lacing his fingers through hers and then resting his other hand over their joined ones.  She looked at him expectantly but Bill couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Talk to me.”  It wasn’t a plea, but a demand borne of love and frustration alike.  Bill took a breath and let it out slowly.  He scrubbed a hand over his face.  

“I’m a mess Baby,” he admitted.  She squeezed his hand, still twined in hers.  “I’m tired and I’m sore.  I’m pissed off that this happened.  And then I feel guilty for being pissed off because I know it could have been worse.  I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself the same way I did.  I see someone who’s weak, vulnerable.  And I hate that you’re seeing that too.”  

He hung his head but forged on.   “And I’m fucking terrified.  Afraid of dying, afraid of not being able to bounce back from this.  Scared that I’ll lose you, or scared that you’ll stay and I’ll not live to enjoy being with you and with Chelsea, my family. I know I sound crazy, I know I do and I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I need you like I do and I’m sorry that I’m pushing you away because I don’t know how else to do this.”  

Hillary scooted her chair closer to his so their knees were touching.  She said nothing but leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips, coaxing a gentle response in return, then reached up to cup his cheeks as she pulled away, their faces still inches from each other.

“I love you,” she said.  “And even if I didn’t, I’d tell you that you’re entitled to every one of those emotions.  Don’t downplay what you’ve been through.  You are anything but weak. Every day I see you fighting to regain your strength and I admire you so incredibly much. I know you’ll come back from this, healthier and stronger, but give yourself a break, Honey.”

She drew her thumb over his bottom lip. “And you don’t sound crazy. In fact, I’d say you sounded crazy if you _weren’t_ afraid.  It’s been a shock to your system, to your way of life.”  Her eyes locked on his as she continued. “You’re not going to lose me Bill.  Because I need you as much as you need me.  In sickness and in health, remember?  We’re just practicing.”  

Bill leaned forward for another kiss.  Her lips tasted faintly of scotch and balmy summer air, warm and sweet, and he felt himself really, truly start to relax for the first time in days. It was a welcome sensation, one he intended to hang onto for the days and weeks ahead. 

“Thank you,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “For being everything I need, even when I don’t know I need it.  I love you.”

“I love you too.  And I intend to help whip you back into shape so that you’re running down that aisle towards me.”  She pecked him lightly.  “I have a vested interest in your recovery, so help me out, okay?  Do we have a deal?”

“I think I can do that,” he confirmed, then went in for a third kiss, this time surprising her by slipping his tongue past her lips and into her succulent mouth.  She held his cheeks and moaned softly into it, reveling in the closeness, in the surge of overwhelming warmth that enveloped her just by being near him.

The road to recovery may be long, but at least he wasn’t walking it alone, and that made all the difference.

tbc...

 


	26. Chapter 26

August 19, 1998

 

Nine thirty! 

Bill rolled over to find Hillary’s side of the bed empty.  And cold.  He could see she’d laid her robe down, indicating she had already gotten dressed but normally she woke him by eight o’clock.  Why had she let him sleep so late this morning?  Then, like a slap in the face it hit him.  Fuck, it was his birthday.  Usually he wasn’t terribly bothered by the idea that another year had gone by, and in fact, this year he had so much more to celebrate - Hillary and Chelsea coming into his life so quickly and unexpectedly, getting engaged and Chelsea asking to be formally adopted - but somehow the thought filled him with dread.  

Though only two weeks into his recovery, his emotions had been all over the place.  Fear had been predominant in the very beginning when everything was so new.  He had felt so overwhelmingly that his body had staged a mutiny against him and each pang in his chest or twitch of his muscles was sure to bring his inevitable demise.  As one day blended into the next and then the next, and he was still alive, the fear turned into a seething anger, at everything and nothing.  He felt angry at the fact that it took a Herculean effort to make it from one room to the next, that he had to essentially train his heart to work again, which meant hours of grueling rehab. That he couldn’t eat the foods he was used to eating, and now relied on the advice of a nutritionist to pick out his meals.  Grains and greens and lean proteins and low fat and low carbohydrate and all he wanted to do was eat a damned cheeseburger with french fries.  

Fear and anger had clouded the entire first week but after his confrontation with Hillary and the subsequent letting out of his feelings, he’d tried hard to move past that.  He knew she was there for him, would be there for him, no matter what and that gave him untold measure of comfort.  They were partners, equals, and he needn’t be ashamed of leaning on her during his recovery, letting her shoulder some of his burdens, if only for a while.  But as easy as that was in theory, it was more difficult in practice, and by the end of the second week, depression had begun to creep in. How the hell was he going to get through the next four weeks of this?  He was so exhausted all the time.  And exhaustion gave way to frustration, which gave way to defeat.  All of which left him feeling incredibly down on himself.

Before he had time to wallow any further, Hillary strolled into the room, a soft smile gracing her features.

“Morning birthday boy!” she said with a little too much enthusiasm.  He loved her for it, but all he wanted to do was pull the covers up over his head and go back to sleep until this day had passed.

Bill’s expression was blank for a second until he too mustered up the willpower to plaster a smile on his face.

“Hey,” he answered.  She leaned down to peck him on the lips and was surprised to find  him unresponsive.  Awkwardly, she sat on the edge of the bed, smile still in place despite the almost physical impact of his aloofness.  She took the hand at his side.

“Were you planning to get up today?” she joked lightly.  “I’ve got a special surprise for breakfast!”

Bill’s gaze went past her shoulder.  “Let me guess, did I get the yolks scrambled in my eggs?  Maybe an extra slice of bacon?  I don’t know if I can handle the suspense!” Hillary swallowed the lump in her throat.  He sounded so hopeless, so dejected.  

“C’mon it’s not that bad Honey. Why don’t you come downstairs and find out. I promise it’ll be worth your while!”  Her hand squeezed his as a show of support and comfort, but what he really wanted was just to be left alone for a while.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll just take my breakfast in here. I’m a little tired,” he said and watched her face fall.  Christ, would it kill him to work up an ounce of enthusiasm to humor her?  She at least deserved that.  

“Okay, okay,” he said in surrender.  “Give me a few minutes to get up and dressed and I’ll meet you down there.”

She brushed the hair back from his face then patted his cheek with a grin.  “Try not to sound too excited, I wouldn’t want you to break anything,” she chided, noticing the corners of his lips inch up a fraction.  Her thumb traced the bottom one, moving down closer so their faces were centimeters apart.  “Let me be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday,” she told him before lowering her mouth over his in a gentle kiss, slow and sweet. “One of many together,” she murmured against his lips. Crystalline eyes remained fixed on his as she pulled away.

“See you downstairs,” she said, and then she was gone.

 

*****

The dining room was empty when he entered, the table bare with the exception of a coffee pot and two cups.

Bill’s brows furrowed.  

“What the hell?” he muttered.  He’d come all the way down here for this? 

He sat down with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs and crawl into their warm bed, to close the curtain and shut out the light and the world for a few hours at least.  

“Hillary!” he called, miffed.  She’d dragged him down here and now she was nowhere to be found.

“Just a minute Honey!” she shouted back.  

A moment later she appeared carrying her plate, laden with all manner of breakfast delicacies.  She sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee, putting her napkin in her lap, grinning at him as she tucked into her pile of scrambled eggs. She was seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was sitting there in abject confusion.

Bill was about to give her a piece of his mind when the lights suddenly clicked off.  

“Now what?” he grumbled.  

Over his shoulder, the click of a lighter then the soft orange glow of a candle cast on the walls.  He turned just in time to see an arm pass a stack of pancakes in front of him, lone candle stuck in the middle.  The plate was set down and he followed the arm up to the smiling face of his daughter.

“Chels? Oh my God! What are you doing here Honey?”  

Chelsea held open her arms and said, “Surprise!” He pushed out of his chair to fold her in his embrace.

“Happy Birthday Dad,” she said into his shoulder. 

He blinked back tears, looking over at Hillary, just able to make out her features in the glimmer of the candlelight.  She gave him a wink and mouthed ‘Happy Birthday’ with a warm smile.  His grip on Chelsea tightened and he rested his cheek on the top of her curly hair, taking a moment to close his eyes and savor her presence.  A presence he hadn’t realized he needed so much until she was there in front of him.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The two broke apart when Hillary flipped the light back on. “Sit and make a wish,” she said, pointing to the still-lit candle.  Bill took his seat again, one of his girls at each side, hands on his shoulders as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  His wish was simple. Time. The chance to spend his days being the best husband and father he could be, however many days he had left to do so.  He blew with all his might, watching the little flame flicker then go out.  

 

*****

“How are you doing Dad?” 

Chelsea walked in step with him as they toured the gardens. Under Hillary’s gentle prodding, his nutritionist had allowed him to eat that stack of pancakes for breakfast with the promise that he’d take an extra 20 minutes of exercise to compensate. But now as they made their second lap around the parterre garden, he could feel himself slowly losing steam. All of the buoyant energy he had felt at seeing his daughter, at spending the day with her and with Hillary was beginning to wear off and the old cape of exhaustion and depression was starting to sit heavy on his shoulders.  He hated it.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Doing great,” he lied. He could see Chelsea look him up and down, appraising him from the side and it unnerved him.  He couldn’t hide from her.  Her or her mother, it seemed.

“No you’re not,” she said.  “But you will be.”  

“That’s what everyone tells me.”  He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  Chelsea took his hand, their steps never faltering.

“When I was in second grade we adopted a dog named Bogie.” 

Bill chuckled.  “Let me guess, the name was your mom’s idea.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you remember how weepy she gets at the end of Casablanca.”  She rolled her eyes with a grin.  “Every single time.”

“I remember,” said Bill.

“Anyway, Bogie may have been named by Mom but he was my dog, and he was my best friend,” she continued. “Mom put in a dog door and trained Bogie to go out and sit at the end of the driveway to wait for my bus every day after school.”

“That’s sweet,” he told her.

“Oh, he was the best dog.  Mom would stand on the porch watching for me, but Bogie would trot out and lay by the mailbox, quietly counting the minutes until the bus pulled up.  All the kids would get so excited, waving and yelling at him, he was like a movie star.”  She laughed at the memory.

“What a nice homecoming.”  He gave her hand a squeeze.

“It was, I loved coming home.  One day, for the first time ever, I took the bus to my friend Rachel’s house so we could work on a project together. Mom was busy going over her case notes in the dining room and didn’t notice the time. But Bogie must have known it was time for the bus to come and he slipped out the doggie door without Mom noticing.” 

“Smart pup,” said Bill.

Chelsea smiled sadly.  “And loyal. He must have been upset that the bus wasn’t slowing down at our house, since he knew I should be on it.  We think he darted towards it or another car and it clipped his leg, crushing it.”

“Oh no,” he said.

Chelsea’s breath hitched.  “He managed to make it all the way back up the driveway to the bottom of the porch stairs, where he started crying.”  

She forged on, despite the obvious grief the memory evoked.  “Mom heard him and rushed outside to find him clearly in pain. She wrapped him up and put him in the car and rushed to the vet.  I got a call at Rachel’s house an hour later...the bones in his leg were crushed and they needed to amputate.”  

“I’m sorry Honey,” he whispered.

“I haven’t felt that afraid since, until Mom called me from the hospital to tell me about you.”  Her voice wavered but didn’t crack.  

His throat constricted. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, eyes filling with tears.  

“It’s okay. You’re here,” she answered. 

“What happened to Bogie?” he asked.

“Well, when he first got home from the hospital, he got pretty depressed.  He had to learn to compensate for his missing leg and in the beginning he had trouble figuring out how to do things.  He kinda just laid around downstairs for a few weeks.  He didn’t even come out to greet the bus. All the kids were so sad not to see him. And it made for a lonely walk up the driveway.”  She looked pointedly at him.

“I guess I know how he felt,” Bill told her.

“I’m sure you do. It must be really hard to have to deal with what you’re going through. I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, but I can see how it would be.” 

“It is really hard,” he admitted. “Maybe the hardest thing I’ve done. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Not at all,” she said simply. “Anyway, a few weeks after the accident, Mom and I went upstairs so I could take a bath, the dog was asleep in his little bed by the window so we didn’t carry him upstairs with us.  Who knows when he even woke up. He was probably whining like mad at the bottom of the stairs but we couldn’t hear him with the bathwater running.” She smiled.

“Poor guy,” Bill sympathized.

“Mmm hmmm,” said Chelsea.  “Next thing we know he’s limping through the bathroom door, sitting right down next to Mom on the bathmat.  I swear he was smiling. His tail was wagging and he got up on his hind legs and put his one front paw on the bathtub. 

“Incredible,” he said.

“I know! I guess the idea of missing out on being with the people he loved was too much for him.  He didn’t care how hard it might be to get to us, he did it anyway.  And you know what?  After that, he started to seem more like himself.  He came down the driveway again, although he did stay a few feet away,” she chuckled.  

“He was with us for 8 more years,” she said.  “That’s 91 in dog years. Not a bad life, I’d say.”

Bill could feel his heart beating, a vibrant realization that he was alive and breathing, something to be damned thankful for.

“You’re pretty wise, you know?” he said to Chelsea as they rounded the corner.  They’d completed a whole other lap, long past the 20 minutes he was supposed to walk for.  The air in his lungs burned a little less than normal, his legs felt just a little lighter.

“Me? I just thought you’d appreciate a childhood memory,” she said.

They stopped short at the door and he pulled her into a hug.  “Thank you Honey,” he said, dropping a kiss on her head. 

“Hope it helped,” she whispered into his chest. “And that you know we’ve got your back, Mom and me.  We want you around for 91 human years. So just keep trying, I know it’ll get easier.”

“It already has,” he whispered.

“I’m glad. Now, since we walked for almost a straight hour, I bet Mom will let you have a piece of that ice cream cake she stashed in the freezer.”

He draped his arm around her shoulders as they headed through the door. 

“That’s something worth living for!” 

 

tbc..


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bill

September 4, 1998

 

“Baby have you seen my-”  

Bill stopped in his tracks inside the bathroom door.

“Goddamn...”

“Hmmmm?” She was oblivious to his eyes raking up and down her body as she leaned slightly toward the mirror to put on a second coat of mascara.

“That is so sexy,” he breathed.

She looked down, finally realizing what he was referring to.  

“This?” she asked. “I know you hate tying them, so I did it for you. You know, since you’re already irritated about having to go to this dinner.”  

Hillary’s eyes crinkled with her smile, accentuating their sapphire hue. Her fingers began loosening the knot of the blue silk tie so she could slip it over her head to give to him.

He swallowed and licked his lips, feeling his breath begin to quicken.  

Everything about her was captivating him. From her sleek bob to her thick dark lashes and smoky eye makeup to the blush of her cheeks and her rose stained lips all the way down to the bright red polish on her toes.  Her navy satin robe was a delicious contrast to her porcelain skin, which was visible under his tie where it hung loosely around her neck.

He moved to stand behind her, both facing the mirror, close but not touching.  The scent of her skin lingered.  

“God, you smell incredible.” 

“Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head, offering the soft smooth skin of her neck to him.

Bill slipped his hands around her waist, resting them gently on the slight protrusions of her hip bones.  

“Yeah,” he answered.  “Come here.”  

Pulling her flush against him, his lips found their way to the skin of her shoulder, unmoving, while he drank in the heady fragrance of her.  Her hands covered his, interlocking their fingers.

“Mmmm.” He began a path to her ear, flicking his tongue gently at the exposed flesh up the curve of neck and shoulder. They were so close that Hillary could feel his heart beating against her back and a slight bulge against her bottom. She closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath. His proximity was doing things to her, things that were dangerous given how much time they had before they needed to leave and also Bill’s current condition. But oh, it felt so good after so long.

“Honey,” she began, attempting to disengage herself from him, if only slightly.  He tightened his hold on her, hot breath tickling the shell of her ear.

“Shhhh.” He pried his fingers out of hers, holding her against him with one hand on her abdomen while the other skirted up between the lapels of her robe to slip inside.  She shuddered when his warm palm covered her breast, molding it.  

“Billy...Honey...” She couldn’t concentrate, his touch was clouding her thinking.  “We shouldn’t...you can’t...we’ve got to...mmmmm.” He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing her to gasp.  

“It’s okay Baby, let me take care of you,” he soothed. “Make you feel good. It’s been so long.”  His words and skillful ministrations were making it impossible to deny him and she found herself pushing back against him, resting the back of her head on his shoulder in surrender.  

Her hooded eyes followed the reflection of his movements as he untied the sash at her waist, letting her robe fall open and exposing a column of skin from her neck to the apex of her thighs.  She was uncovered just enough so the sides of her breasts peeked out delectably, his tie falling in a perfect line between them.  

“Relax,” he whispered. “You need this.” The backs of his fingertips trailed down, brushing lightly over the satin, feeling her nipples tighten in response.  He flicked them with his thumbs and she whimpered.  He could feel her starting to succumb to him so he redoubled his efforts, swirling around her areolas once, twice, then pinching her nipples again.  Her eyes closed.

“God,” she moaned.

“Good?,” he asked in reply, moving lower, down the line of her abdomen to rim her navel.  The muscles of her stomach trembled under his touch. 

“Mmmmm, yeah.” He skimmed lower, feather light touches to her hipbone and the outside of her thigh, other hand pressing her into him so her ass ground against his growing erection.  

His fingers fluttered over her skin, moving inward to the gap between her thighs and stroking her close to her center, so close but not enough.  

She whimpered louder.  “Please.”

“Please what Baby?”  His touch was surer, inching even nearer to where she needed him.

“Please don’t tease me,” she begged.   

Bill’s soft chuckle was warm in her ear and her eyes looked up to meet his in the mirror.  “Show me what you want,” he breathed. 

His hand remained still on her inner thigh and she rested hers over top of it, dragging it up slowly to the heat between her legs. They both watched as their joined fingers dipped inside of her, feeling her velvety walls surround them.

“Mmmm so soft and wet.” His teeth nipped her earlobe and then his tongue flicked out to soothe it.  “Show me Hillary,” he said again. “Help me make you come.” His voice was husky and dripping with sex, making her even wetter, if that were possible.

“Like this.” She guided his finger between the slick lips to her engorged clit, circling it lightly once and then again, harder. Her head fell back against his shoulder as they continued around and around. “That’s it,” she whimpered.  

She took his other hand in hers and placed it on her breast. “Touch me,” she pleaded. She felt wanton watching herself in the mirror, their joined hands on her breast and between her thighs, working in tandem to take her closer and closer to the edge.  

“You’re so sexy Baby,” he rasped.  

Her mouth opened in a gasp as he sunk a finger into her, moving it in and out slowly and coating it with her moisture before finding it’s way back to her sensitive bud.  She withdrew her own fingers from his but held onto his wrist, riveted by the up and down motion. Her gasp turned to a long, low moan when he did it again, and again until she was circling her hips in time with his movements. 

“Don’t stop...don’t stop...please,” she mewled.  Despite her best efforts, her eyes slipped shut, her body strung tight like a bow. Her thighs were beginning to tremble from the exertion of standing upright.  

“I love you so much Hillary,” he breathed against the skin of her neck. “So fucking much.”

She inhaled sharply and let out a cry as the first wave of her orgasm rolled through her, inner muscles rippling then clenching deliciously, over and over and over until Bill had to snake an arm around her waist to keep her standing.  

Still panting, she turned on shaky legs to face him and he pulled her closer by the tie around her neck.  

“How was that?” he asked, eyes burning into hers. Her response was lost in his mouth as she pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, slipping her tongue in to gently collide with his.  Bill deepened it, nipping and sucking until she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. His lower body collided into hers and he rolled his hips, clearly aroused.  “Baby,” he groaned. He took her hand from the back of his neck and pushed it down until it rested on his cock overtop of his pants.  

She rubbed him gently, but he wanted more.  “Harder,” he whispered against her mouth. 

“Billy,” she said with a hint of caution. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

He thrust into her hand, hardening almost fully. “We’ll stop in a minute Hill, I promise. Please,” he implored. His eyes were so hopeful, she couldn’t deny him even though it had only been a month since his surgery.  He’d come so far, she didn’t want to discourage him, but she also didn’t want to impede his recovery.

“A minute,” she agreed.  

Hillary undid the belt of his dress pants then flicked open the closure and unzipped the zipper, looking up at him as her hand slipped inside his briefs to touch his cock.  She pulled it upward so the tip was just visible over the waistband, already leaking in her grasp. Squeezing gently, she coated her palm with the slick fluid and stroked downward to the base, then back to the head again, watching him bite his lip in ecstasy.  He exhaled heavily through his nose. 

“Hillary,” he groaned.  “Mmmm, so good.”  He swiftly pushed his underwear down, allowing her better access to touch him.  “Keep going,” he whispered.  “Feels amazing.”

The tempo of his hips increased, ebbing and flowing as her hand pumped his length.  Hillary’s eyes remained steady on his face, taking in the furrow of his brow and the way his eyes squeezed shut in pleasurable concentration. She had missed this. 

When she gently cupped his sack with her other hand he gasped, an odd look passing over his features.  

“Stop,” he choked.

Hillary stilled.  “What’s wrong?” she asked with concern.

“Lightheaded,” he managed.  He opened his eyes and just as quickly closed them.  “Yeah, not feeling so great.” 

Hillary tugged his underwear back up and guided him to step out of his pants.  “Come here,” she told him, taking him by the arm to sit him on the toilet seat.  “Head between your knees for a minute.”  Bill bent slowly forward and opened his legs, positioning his head between them. Hillary knelt beside him.  “Deep breaths,” she suggested.  “In and out.” 

He did as instructed, inhaling deeply through his nose and letting a slow breath out through is mouth a few times before he sat up abruptly.  “How’s that?” asked Hillary.  “Any better?”  Her stomach sank at the look of terror in his eyes. “My heart rate feels fast,” he told her.  “I feel like I can’t catch my breath.”

She put two fingers to the pulse point on his wrist. It was fast, but not overly so.  “Let’s lie you down for a while Honey,” she said.  “Can you walk?”  Bill nodded.  Hillary slipped his necktie off and fastened her robe, then helped him out of the bathroom.

She crouched next to the bed where he lay on his side with his eyes closed.  His face was tight and his body tense, she could tell he was trying to will himself to calm down but it wasn’t working. Hillary smoothed her hand over his forehead. “Try to relax,” she softly told him.  

Bill looked at her, wide eyed.  “Something just doesn’t feel right, I still can’t catch my breath. What’s wrong with me?”  His voice cracked and her heart broke. She hated seeing him so afraid.  

“Why don’t I give Dr. Katz a quick call?” she asked.  “And then I’ll call Letitia to let her know we can’t make it tonight.”  

She tapped his nose. “You sure this wasn’t some elaborate stunt to get out of dinner with Blanche?  Because you could have just declined the invitation.”  She winked and he gave her a weak smile.  “You caught me,” he said quietly.  At least it was something.  A tiny glimmer of his wry sense of humor.  

“Okay, just close your eyes and rest while I make some calls.” A soft kiss to his cheek.

Hillary decided to call his assistant first, quickly informing her that Bill was not feeling well and to please contact Blanche Lincoln and her team to let them know they would not be attending dinner that evening. 

She glanced over at Bill who remained still on the bed, breathing ragged.  “How’s the dizziness?” she asked him.  He sat up, knees over the edge, hands on the mattress beside his thighs.  “Better,” he told her.  “But I still feel weird. It feels like my heart is pounding and I can’t get a breath and the more I can’t breathe the harder it gets.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and got up to pace the floor.  Maybe some movement would help.

“I’m calling Dr. Katz,” she said, receiver to her ear.  He picked up on the second ring.

“Hi Dr. Katz, it’s Hillary. Rodham.”

“Hillary, how are you?” he asked her.  “I’m guessing by virtue of the fact that you’re calling that something’s up. What is it?”

She wrapped the phone cord around her finger, playing with it. “Well, Bill was having some lightheadedness and trouble catching his breath. The lightheadedness seems to have passed, but he says he’s still not feeling right. I wanted to call and see what you think we should do.”

“Okay,” he began. “Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this.  What was he doing when he started feeling dizzy?”

Hillary cleared her throat, suddenly feeling awkward.  “We were...um...fooling around in the bathroom.”  She felt like a teenager getting caught by her parents.

The doctor’s soft chuckle could be heard over the line and Bill, who had remained quiet the last couple of minutes, snickered audibly.  She shot him a look from across the room.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more information than that Hillary,” he told her. “Were you having intercourse?” Hillary wasn’t sure why, but her face flamed. “No!” she exclaimed. “Just touching, it didn’t get that far before he stopped me.” She could almost picture the doctor’s face, grinning. 

“It’s okay Hillary, tell me what happened.”

“Okay, well I was just, you know, touching him and he told me to stop because he was feeling lightheaded. I sat him down on the toilet and told him to put his head between his knees and that seemed to help. But he was concerned because he felt like his pulse was racing and he was having trouble taking a breath.  I had him lay on the bed for a few minutes, and now he’s up walking around, but still not quite feeling better.”

“Is he there?  Can you put me on speaker?” asked Dr. Katz.

Hillary held her hand over the mouth piece.  “He wants me to put him on speaker. That okay with you?” she asked Bill.

He came over to the desk to have a seat.  “Sure.”

“Go ahead doctor,” Bill told him.

“Hi Governor, I understand you’re not having a very good evening,” Katz began.  They could hear the smile in his voice.  Bill sighed.  “You could say that,” he answered.

“I’m sorry to hear that.  I’d like you to come in for a stress test tomorrow, just to be on the safe side, but let me tell you what I think happened.  How are you right now by the way?”

Bill thought about the question.  “Much better than before,” he said.  “But still feeling a little off.”

“I see.  Any chest pain or tightness? Anything that would make you think you need to get to the Emergency Room?” 

“No, nothing like that,” said Bill.  “Just trouble catching my breath and it feels like my heart is racing.”  

“Governor, I think you’re experiencing a little bit of anxiety.  Has that happened to you before?”

Bill nodded for Hillary’s benefit more than anything. “I’ve been very anxious since I got home from the hospital. But it’s more of a nervous feeling when something happens.  I don’t feel particularly nervous at the moment.”

“Hmm, ok.  Well, in my opinion, without examining you, you might be having some blood pressure fluctuations, which is what brought on the lightheaded feeling Hillary described. That may also be medication related.  You’re still taking the beta blockers, right?” 

“Yes,” Bill confirmed. 

Katz hummed.  “Mmm hmm, those are designed to lower your blood pressure as it is, so perhaps a combination of that and, you know, blood flowing to other areas of your body might have made you a bit lightheaded.” 

He continued, “Feeling dizzy could have triggered an anxiety attack, which can manifest itself in any number of ways.  In fact, many patients confuse anxiety for heart trouble.  My recommendation for tonight is to try to get some rest.  If at any point during the night you feel severely dizzy or short of breath, experience chest pains or tightness or any other worrisome symptoms, go to the ER and have them call me. Otherwise, I’ll have my nurse book you for a stress test in the morning.  Does that sound like a good plan to you Governor?”

“That works.”  Bill sighed. The whole situation was finally starting to exhaust him.  He was ready to forget it happened.

“Alright Governor, I will see you in the morning.  No more..ahem...fooling around tonight, okay?”

Hillary chuckled but Bill looked forlorn.  She reached across the desk to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We understand doctor,” she said sheepishly.  “We’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight.”

 

*****

“Come lay with me.” She took his hand and led him to the bed, immediately folding him in her embrace as they rested against the headboard, his head on her chest. Her hand traveled the length of his back, up and down, soothing him.

“I’m sorry Hillary.” His voice caught.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” she asked.  

His breath shuddered against her.  “Sorry that you have to deal with this,” he began. “I mean Christ, I can’t even get a handjob without almost passing out!”

Hillary let out a boisterous laugh.  “Are you kidding, I take that as a compliment!” she said with a grin.

“Yeah?” he asked.  “How’s that?”

Leaning up on her elbow, she said, “I’m obviously so good that a simple touch leaves you dizzy and breathless.”

Bill laughed too, he couldn’t help it.  “Get over here,” he quietly demanded, pulling her closer with a hand on her hip.  “I love you, you know that?”

She fitted her lips softly to his then began peppering the corners of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, everywhere she could reach, with gentle kisses.  “And I love you. So much. And when the doctor says it’s okay and you’re ready, I’m going to show you just how much. And it’s going to be amazing. Just please don’t get discouraged in the meantime, okay?”

He nodded.  “Alright Baby. I’ll try not to.”

Her lips met his again, quickly.  “Good. Now why don’t we grab a quick dinner and then watch a movie. I know you’ve been dying to see Titanic!”

Bill groaned, but there was a smile in his eyes. “Great choice of words Hill,” he chuckled.

“Come on Honey,” she encouraged.  “We can put a little butter on the popcorn, and I’ll even let you snuggle with me under the blankets.”

“You drive a hard bargain Ms. Rodham, but you’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

tbc...


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their exile (sexile?) is over!

September 18, 1998

 

Bill and Hillary hovered in the doorway of Chelsea’s dorm room, hedging.  The boxes had been unpacked, the bed made and the books on her bookshelves ordered with Bill’s own special system, which would undoubtedly be undone as soon as they left.  Chelsea’s cardinal and white Stanford University banner hung proudly on the wall along with her cork board, which Hillary had helped tack with photos near and dear to her. A new one of the three of them, happy and smiling on Bill’s birthday was front and center. 

All that remained was the goodbye, the letting go, and to the two adults in the room, it was proving much harder than they had anticipated.

“You’ll call us later?” Bill asked hopefully.  

Chelsea closed the drawer she’d been organizing and turned to her parents.  “Yes Dad,” she said with a smile.

“You’ve got enough blankets? Enough snacks and water?” asked Hillary.  “Nothing else you need right now?”

Chelsea walked over to the two of them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.  “I’m fine you guys. I’ll be fine. I promise,” she told them.  “There’s a floor meeting with the R.A. in a half hour so I’ve got to get ready to go to that, okay?” 

“Oh. Oh, yes of course,” said Hillary.  “We’ve got to get moving anyway, don’t we Honey?”  

Bill nodded.  “Yeah, we’ve got such a long drive back home,” he said with a chuckle.  

Hillary swatted him. “Come here,” she said, reaching for her daughter.  She hugged her tight like she had on that first day in the hospital when everything was new and terrifying.  This was also new and terrifying to her but in a different way, though no less gut wrenching. She squeezed Chelsea just a little harder, feeling her throat constrict at the thought of walking away. 

“I love you Baby,” she croaked. “You call later, okay?”

“Love you too Mama, I will.”  And as though she knew Hillary needed it, she said, “Thank you. For everything.”  Her own voice cracked on the last word, the weight of it obvious to everyone in the room.  Hillary pulled back with a nod, swiping at the tears on her cheeks, smiling though her heart was breaking. 

Chelsea went straight from Hillary’s arms to her father’s, folding herself in his embrace like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Love you,” she told him, voice muffled by his shoulder. “And I’m so proud of you.”  Bill placed a kiss on the top of her head.  “You too Chels.”  His voice was tight with emotion. “Talk to you later.”

Chelsea’s door closed behind them and the two dazed parents made their way to the car, hand-in-hand.  

 

*****

The air in the house felt different, empty somehow.  From the moment they’d walked through the door she’d felt it, that emptiness, and now, as they sat down to dinner, she couldn’t shake it.  Though Chelsea was only five minutes away by car, knowing that she now occupied a different space left a void in Hillary.  That presence, that aura belonging distinctly to her daughter was now lacking.  Hillary swallowed a sip of her wine and tried to clear her head.

But Bill felt it too.  “Feels weird without her here, doesn’t it?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

Tears sprang to Hillary’s eyes as she nodded.  “Yes,” she whispered.  “And I know I’m probably being overly dramatic and ridiculous, but I’m so used to just _feeling_ her in the house that I’m already missing her so much.” The salty drops trailed down her cheeks. “I didn’t realize this was going to be so hard,” she rasped.

Bill squeezed her hand. “I understand,” he said.  “I’m having a hard time too, and I don’t even live here.”

“Letting go sucks,” she said with a sniffle.

“That it does,” he agreed.  “You want to go out for a while? Take your mind off it?”

She rested her other hand over his.  “Thanks Honey, but why don’t we just have a quiet evening in?  You’re only here for a few days, let’s enjoy it, ok?”

“You got it,” he said.

 

*****

By the fourth time she’d fidgeted against him, Bill was becoming exasperated. 

“Baby,” he warned with a squeeze to her shoulder. “What’s the problem?”

Hillary let out a long sigh.  “I don’t know, I just can’t seem to get comfortable,” she said.  “I think I’m just tense knowing Chelsea isn’t here. I’m sorry Honey.”  She patted his hand. “I’m lousy company tonight.”

Bill’s expression softened. “Let me see if I can help,” he said, shifting on the couch so he was sitting almost behind her.  

His hands went to her shoulders, resting gently for a moment, infusing her with his warmth. She bowed her head and encouraged him to continue.  

“You know,” Bill said as he kneaded her muscles, “There are advantages to an empty nest.”  

“Such as?” she asked.

Bill’s hands stilled and his mouth went to her ear.  “Well, let’s see...you don’t have to fight for the phone now.”  

“Good point,” she told him. 

“Mmm hmm, and your grocery bills will be lower...” his arms circled her, fingers going for the buttons on her shirt, starting to slip them from the holes.

“You’re right about that,” she said absently.  He was trying to distract her and it was working.

“I am.  And just think, you’ll never run out of hot water.  You know how Chelsea loved her showers.” Finished with the last button, he pulled her shirt apart and began to help her out of it.  Hillary shivered, though the temperature in the room was scorching.

“Yes,” she confirmed, watching as her blouse fell to the floor.  

His breath tickled her. “And there’s something else,” he whispered, biting her lobe.

“W...what’s that?”  This slow burn was taking its toll on her vocal abilities. 

“I could take your clothes off right here in the den and make love to you on this couch and no one’s going to walk in on us.”

Hillary swallowed hard. “You could?” she asked, turning to face him in her lacy white bra.  Her breath caught at the look of desire in his eyes.  

“Absolutely,” he husked.

“What do you think Dr. Katz would say about that?” Her voice conveyed her concern.  

Bill waggled his brows and smiled.  “I got the all clear two weeks ago.  He told me at my six week appointment I was cleared for all physical activity,”  he chuckled.  “Including fooling around and intercourse, as he delighted in telling me. I like that guy.” 

Her brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” It had been an emotional day and for some reason, though she was trying not to let it, she was hurt that he’d kept this from her for two weeks.  

Bill saw her face and immediately realized his error in judgement.  “Oh Hill,” he said, tipping her chin up so their eyes met, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t say anything because I was anxious about it, and Katz could tell.  He told me to...you know...try it by myself a couple of times...and see if there were any problems, and if not, I should be fine.”

“And did you?” 

“I did.”

“And?” Her voice was hopeful.

Bill took her hand. “Well, my heart didn’t explode, so I’d say it was pretty successful.”

“That’s good news,” she told him, slowly grinning.  “Although I wish I could have helped you.” 

“Oh but you did,” he said quietly.  “In fact, you helped immensely.”  He scooted closer to her on the couch and put his arm around her.

“Did I?  How’s that?” she asked him.

“You were my fantasy.” 

Hillary turned her head to look at him.  “Oh yeah?”  

“Always,” Bill confirmed.  He noticed the rise and fall of her chest, how it quickened with his words.

“Tell me what you fantasized about.”

He was more than happy to play this game; he wanted her, and he wanted her to know it. “Mmmm first I got comfortable on the bed, laying back on the pillows,” he began. “Then I closed my eyes and I pictured you.  Your face.  You were doing that thing you always do where you flick your tongue out over your bottom lip and then bite down on it.  Do you have any idea how sexy that is?”

Hillary repeated the motion and he hummed softly.  “Just like that,” he said.  

“What else?” asked Hillary, breath quickening further. 

“I thought about your scent.  How the skin of your neck smells after a shower, how you smell on my fingers after I’ve touched you, the smell of us together after we’ve made love.  It was so vivid in my mind, turning me on.”  

She squirmed next to him, squeezing her thighs together, incredibly aroused. He could hear her breathing now; sharp inhalations followed by slow, shuddering streams of air as she exhaled.  

Bill continued.  “I was so hard just thinking about you so I reached down-”

“Show me,” she husked. “I want to see you.”

With a groan, he quickly pushed his pants over his hips and down his thighs until they hung around his ankles.  He spread his legs apart a little and took his hard length in his hand, swirling his thumb around the leaking head.  

Hillary watched, mesmerized, as he stroked himself, dark tip pushing through his circled fingers and then disappearing again. In and out, up and down.

“I imagined you,” he said, voice rough and gravelly.  “How your nipples get darker when you’re excited, how they feel and taste on my tongue when I’m licking them. Your tight heat surrounding me, pulling me deeper.  God I love being inside of you.  Love the way your voice gets higher and softer just before you come.”  

Bill’s movements increased in speed, his other hand clutching his thigh.  “Baby,” he groaned.  

She looked at him, seeing the muscles in his jaw tighten as he got closer to the edge.  “What do you need?” she whispered.

“You,” he answered.  “Please. I need to feel you around me.”

Clothing swiftly disappeared and Bill relaxed into the back of the couch in anticipation.  Hillary climbed into his lap and straddled him, gasping as her wet center came in contact with the hardness of his cock after so long.  She cradled his face in her hands.

“You okay?” His comfort was paramount; she wanted him but not to his detriment.

“I will be.”  He shifted his pelvis, desperate to slide into her.  Lifting briefly up on her knees, she sank down onto him, swallowing him inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of her.  They both stilled, content to be joined after so long. Hillary’s inner muscles were already gently clenching around him, making him harder.

A whimper as she looked at him, eyes sparkling. “I’ve missed you so much,” she breathed against his lips. The kiss deepened, her tongue pressed against his mouth seeking entrance, coaxing his lips open so she could push inside, holding his jaw to keep him angled toward her.  He moaned into her, elated to feel her naked body pressed against him again but trying hard to tamp down the instinct to move.   

Hillary must have been able to feel his struggle because she pulled back to look at his face.  “Just relax,” she said softly.  “Let me love you.”

Bill exhaled through his nose with a nod.  His hands cupped the cheeks of her ass, urging her upward with a lift then guiding her back down onto him, rising and falling slowly, grinding on the downstrokes until they were both gasping and moaning.  She took over the rhythm and moved up so he slipped almost all the way out of her then tilted her hips and accepted him back into her body with a mewl.  

“Fuck,” Bill sighed.  “You feel so good Baby.”

Her lips found his ear.  “You too.”  Hot breath assaulting him. “So hard and thick.  I can feel every part of you,”  She ground her clit into him with a wail. “Sorry Billy I can’t wait, I’m gonna come,” she whimpered.  Her cries got higher and breathier and he could feel her start to flutter then clamp around him as she came, sobbing into his neck.

“Hillary,” he moaned as her orgasm subsided.  “Don't stop, please. Ohhhhh.”  He threw his head back into the couch and jerked his hips up into her, releasing himself in hot spurts inside of her a moment later, then collapsed back and took Hillary with him. Two sweaty bodies flushed with endorphins, trying hard to calm their thudding hearts.

“Are you still alive?” she murmured into his shoulder.

“I think so,” he panted.  “And if not and death feels this amazing, I’m okay with it.”

He felt her chuckle against him then kiss his neck.  “It’s been quite a day,” she said as she pushed herself back in his lap.  “We lost something and we got something back. It’s funny the way life works.”

His fingers traced the side of her face, down around the shell of her ear to tuck a lock of hair behind it.  “We didn’t lose Chelsea,” he told her.  “She’s right where she’s supposed to be, and all because of you.  You prepared her for this Baby, and she’s going to go out into the world and do great things.  You should be so incredibly proud of that.”

“I am,” said Hillary. “And I’m also so proud that she’s got you for a father.  That she’s got your tenacity and your incredible capacity for understanding.  We make quite a family, huh?”

Bill’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, now suspiciously moist. “We do. You and Chelsea are everything I ever hoped for. I love you.”

“I love you too Honey,” she told him. “But I’m old and my legs are starting to cramp. I’ve gotta get up.”  Hillary kissed him softly and then rolled off his lap with a groan.

“I guess my plan to take you upstairs to bed and take our time kind of flew out the window.” His smile was sheepish but adorable.

“Hmmm, I’m not complaining,” said Hillary as she dug around for her panties.  “Now that we know your heart can withstand couch sex, the world is ours!  Let’s just consider that an appetizer.”  She winked at him then continued to button her shirt. “Perhaps some wine, a nice warm bath, lots of candles and scented oils, then we’ve got all night...”

“I do like the way you think,” Bill said.  “I’ll get the wine, you run the bath.  Meet you upstairs in five.”  He kissed the top of her head on his way to the kitchen.

 

Tbc...


	29. Chapter 29

Hillary’s eyes shot open. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings and remember where she was; home safe in her own bed. With Bill. Although she couldn’t recollect what her dream had been about, there was a gnawing sense of fear and loneliness that had wrapped itself around her like a cloak.  Her heart was still hammering and her breath was catching in her throat.  God, that must have been some nightmare. 

Bill slumbered beside her and she concentrated on syncing her respiration to the soft, even breaths he was taking, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Her eyes drifted from his peaceful face to the rise and fall of his chest and a bolt of pure terror shot through her.  His incision scar, still red and angry, was visible even in the low light of the room and all at once it hit her. How close she had come to losing him. How any number of factors could have meant the end of his life, the end of their life together. Before it had even really begun.

Her heartrate increased and suddenly it felt like she was suffocating. Finally, after over eight weeks of focusing solely on his surgery and recovery, making sure that he was gaining strength and getting the emotional support he needed to get well, the bottom was falling out.  Every emotion she had crammed down now seemed to be spilling over, even into her dreams.

She bit her bottom lip to stifle the cry in her throat as the tears she’d kept at bay for over two months came pouring out of her in a torrent.

_He’s here,_ she reminded herself.  _He’s okay. He’s going to be fine._

But once they started, her eyes just wouldn’t stop. Salty tears ran down her cheeks and mingled with the ones already at her jawline, then dripped off. She reached out and ran tentative fingers over the raised flesh of his scar, following it up until she rested a hand over his chest. His heart beat under her palm, the strong steady thrum of it loosening the knot of fear that had settled deep in her belly.

“Hillary?” His sleepy voice startled her and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Honey, go back to sleep,” she sniffed. 

“Why are you crying?” He sat up against the headboard, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I must have had a bad dream,” she admitted. “I can’t really remember it but I woke up terrified.  Then I looked over at you and it struck me how easily I could have lost you. God Bill, I don’t know what I would have done.” Her voice broke and a soft sob slipped out.

“Oh Baby,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t lose me.  I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He stroked up and down her back, his elegant hands soothing her.

Hillary nodded into his shoulder. “I guess I’m finally realizing how serious it all was.  I think I just pushed that aside because I knew you needed me to be strong but I’m kind of falling apart right now.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”

Their gazes locked in the semi-darkness as his finger tilted her chin up. “It’s okay to fall apart sometimes,” he told her. “God knows you’ve been propping me up for over two months. When I struggled, when I lashed out, when I cried. You always managed to convince me things were going to work out.” His thumb stroked her damp cheek. “I wouldn’t have made it through the last eight weeks if you hadn’t been there Hilly, and that’s not an exaggeration.”

Her soft chortle wafted against his face. “My motives were purely selfish,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.  In a couple more days he’d be going back to his duties and they’d be two thousand miles apart again, suffering through the remaining months of a long-distance romance. There was no reason to sour what little time they had together with her solemnness and anxiety.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. I’ve landed the most eligible bachelor in Arkansas!” She reached up to brush his face from his temple down to his jaw. “Besides, I’m all alone in this big ol’ house now and you’re being evicted in a few months, I figure maybe we can help each other out.”

“Hmmm.” His lips drifted towards hers. “Sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

Their mouths met in a tender kiss, tongues pressing languidly together as Hillary’s hand slipped into his hair to keep him with her. Grateful that they hadn’t gotten dressed after their earlier bath and second round of lovemaking (and subsequent half hour cleaning up the deluge of water that had sloshed over the sides of the tub as she rode them both to climax), she pushed up on her elbow and threw a leg over his hips.

“What are your thoughts on trying this in a bed this time?” she asked breathlessly, being careful not to put too much pressure on his chest as she leaned forward to rest her hands on the pillow by his head.  If his semi-erect cock pressing against her mound was any indication, his thoughts on that matter were utterly transparent.

“That also sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he concluded, hips bucking against hers to bring them into more intimate contact.

“I’m glad you agree,” she said again, rolling her pelvis against his for emphasis and grinning at him when he groaned at the sensation. “Three times in one night Billy…you think the old ticker can handle that?” She repeated the motion, unable to bite back her own moan. Warm, sticky moisture was settling between her thighs and her body was crying out to be filled by him again. She couldn’t get enough.

“Hillary.” His voice held a warning.

“Yes Honey?”

“Lift up like a good girl and I’ll show you what I can handle.” He raised his head to kiss her again, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. “Please.”  

Since he was being so polite, she drew her hips away from his and reached between them to palm his rigid length, then she slowly guided it inside of her.  Her eyes closed, a wanton smile gracing her mouth as she sank down until he was engulfed in her to the hilt. 

“Mmmm.” The shift of her hips brought her clit in delicious contact with the coarse hair covering his pubic bone and she ground slowly in a circular motion to increase the pressure.

“How’s that?” he husked, countering her movements in a torturous circuit.

Pure pleasure coursed through her like a drug, centering on the place where they were joined, expanding to the points their skin touched – pebbled nipples against his chest, bare knees pressed into the sides of his hips.

“God you feel good.” And he did. Pulsing between her legs, working her up with his skillful motions. There hadn’t been a single thrust and yet, she already felt herself climbing closer to that edge, ready to take that exhilarating leap and freefall until she floated to the ground again.  This was what she needed, the connection with him, to erase the lingering sense of trepidation her earlier nightmare had wrought. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Oh, but isn’t it better if I do _this_? He rocked back and forth against her in short bursts, friction inside and out causing her eyes to close and her back to arch. She matched him thrust for thrust and they met in the middle with a slow grind, soft whimpers and puffs of air escaping through her nose.

“Fuck!” she breathed.

“How about _this_? Large hands dug into her hips, pushing her down onto him again and again. Sultry sweat forming between their lower bodies, pooling in valleys and running into creases, soaking into the sheets beneath them. 

“Bill…” She was begging now, the strain in her voice giving way to an impatient plea. Feeling him within her, hard and thick, vein bulging on the underside, was rocketing her closer to that precipice. Her clit rubbed delectably on the ridge of his pelvis and she sucked in a breath – there it was- just out of her reach.

“That’s it Hilly,” he cooed. “There it is, so close…”

Small flutters caressed his aching cock and he faltered. “Hillary,” he almost demanded. “Come on…that’s it…come for me Baby.” He thrust up into her as he guided her down. Hard. Once, twice and finally, she clamped around him with at cry.

“Fuck Bill…yes!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back and riding him with abandon. Muscles clenching, moisture surging, breasts bouncing with her movements, it was enough to trigger his own release and he squeezed his eyes shut and grunted.

“Hillary!” Her name on his mouth again, his hands holding her still as he plunged in and out until he was completely spent.

She rolled to the side a moment later, not wanting to crush him. Their soft sighs and labored breathing the only sounds in the room as he tucked her into the crook of his arm and placed a kiss to her forehead.

“Mmm Honey.” She kissed his chest. “I’ve missed that so much.”

Bill chuckled. “I’d say we’ve made up for some lost time, at least.”

“Not nearly enough,” she told him with a yawn. Her fingers traced over the line of his scar, less frightening now than it had been earlier, less taunting. 

“You’re lucky we’ve still got two more days,” he said. “That’s six more times if we stay the course.”

He could feel laughter shuddering against him. “All the cardio you’ll ever need, love.” Her eyes were drifting shut, her limbs getting heavy with sleep. “I love you so much,” she murmured softly, “I’m so glad I get to be your wife.”

“Me too, Hilly.” His lips brushed her hair, his own eyes starting to close. “Soon.”

 

tbc...


End file.
